The Times Before
by Gumdrop Boo
Summary: In 1979 Sky High was hoisted up, the enrollment doubled, and a whole batch of familiar characters were incoming Freshman, just beginning their journey toward being heroes. One student however, went on a journey through life. High school is never easy.
1. Freshmen

A/N: Yes. I finally came back to this fandom and am trying something different--I don't own any of the 'Sky High' characters, I just am allowed to play with them ;)

* * *

He was actually more excited than terrified. All of his young life he had been told by his mother how rad it was, how she made so many life-long friends during her time there. He checked out his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He had tried to beef up some over the summer but his metabolism was too fast, and all his body did was tone, and ever so slightly. No, he was still a gangly stick with blue eyes and freckles.

At least maybe it would be the day he would get to talk to _her_.

"Jonny, please don't be late. I would hate for you to miss anything!" his mother called up the staircase.

"I'm coming" he said and tugged a t-shirt over his bony torso.

He grabbed a piece of toast and kissed his mother on the cheek. His father was already at work, a normal hard-working man, with a real job. His mother covered as a flower boutique owner. It was convenient for her—she could close shop whenever Vault needed her as back-up.

He was busy munching down slightly burnt toast; little crumblies fell off as he arranged his backpack over his shoulders and made his way to the bus stop. This bus stop was different though, it would take him to high school—to the Sky High.

It used to be named _Superhero High_ but was recently changed and his mother didn't explain that part.

Del Marco. Josephine Del Marco was standing at the bus stop, too. He quickly finished his toast and let his heart stop its wild pace. He knew she would be there, after all, she lived right across the street. Yet he felt kind of dizzy as he approached her.

"Hi, Jon," she said cheerfully when she noticed him, which he could have considered a miracle.

"Hey, Josie."

She was beautiful. That was like saying 'people breath oxygen.' Josie Del Marco was the most beautiful girl Jonathan Boy had ever seen. _Seen_ because he never got up enough courage to actually have a conversation with her, which was pathetic because they had lived in the same neighborhood for 10 years.

"So, I hear your dad's still recuperating from his trip to Britain. What happened again? There was a boating accident?"

Josie nodded, "Yeah, he's on some heavy R&R. There were actually a lot of boating accidents. He was flying for two days, scouting for and rescuing sailors out of the ocean."

Josie seemed to be done with the conversation, but Jon really didn't want it to be. "So how is he doing then?"

She looked at him, and smiled uncertainly, "I said he was resting."

Jon felt his cheeks go a slight red. He was being a doofus and he knew it. He just wanted to impress Josie by taking an interest in her family.

"Heya, Jonnyboy!" he felt a hard slap on his back.

"Hi, Tom."

"What's wrong? Got first day jeebies?"

"No…"

"JOSIE!" he boomed, and it sent the loose autumn leaves swirling wildly in the opposite direction. Josie's hair, which had been shiny and straight, was now a tangled mess.

"WHAT BOOMER!?" she cried, furious her hair was now awful on the first day of high school.

"Lookin' good!" he winked and pointed at her.

"WHAT ever," she huffed, clawing through her hair, trying to get it to the pristine condition it had been in before Thomas Boomowski ruined it.

Jon was out with a spare comb before she could even ask for one. That was what Jon did best: unnaturally fast reactions and swift reflexes.

"Thanks, Jon," Josie managed to smile, even though she looked like she was about to cry because of her hair.

"Man, that wasn't nice," Jon chided.

"So what? Girls are too particular about their hair anyway. Hey, by the way, what would you think if I let my hair grow into a mullet?" Boomer mused, sliding his hands through his hair.

Jon didn't have time to answer, for the bus finally arrived. A skinny old man opened the door and smiled, but didn't say a word. They stepped on, and found a whole bus full of kids just like them—new, powerful, and nervous. Jon took a deep breath, feeling awkward and not knowing where to sit.

He knew Josie would probably sit with a girl named Lynda—the girl in the middle of the bus waving her hand at Josie. He did NOT want to sit by Boomer and listen to him speak of his new planned hair do, or be put in 'playful' headlocks. He scanned the seats and saw an empty one next to a girl. He sat down next to her. She was looking out the window and didn't seem to notice him.

"This spot wasn't being saved for anyone was it?" he asked, just to be sure.

She looked at him, scrutinized him through her thick framed glasses, and then finally said, "No, it's all yours."

"I'm Jon."

She didn't acknowledge him, but turned to look back out the window again.

He felt the bus lift off the ground. There was some frightful shaking and there was a unanimous gasp from all on board . _Are we flying?_

He tried looking out the window but the girl was blocking it, staring through it intently. He saw a duck fly by and was amazed. He knew Josie could fly, and she wasn't fazed at all when he looked back to her. She was laughing and chatting with Lynda. There was some more turbulence, sending the students jerking to the side, and Jon accidentally grasped the arm of the girl next to him for stability. She pulled back startled, almost shyly, but still didn't say anything.

They reached the high school, it was floating. Imagine that! His mother never said anything about it being in the air. Well, maybe she thought he would understand since it was called SKY HIGH now. He wondered how it stayed aloft though, a floating structure like that. It must have been the newest in super technology.

The first thing that happened after they shuffled off the bus was the student body president greeted them.

"Hey, future heroes! I'm Shaun Wilson, student body president. Now I know you're excited about your first day here at Sky High but first I should go over a few basics now that the school is in the air." Shaun Wilson was a senior, and a great public speaker. He told them not to go past the guard rails for safety reasons and gave them a tour around the school. Jon hoped he wouldn't get lost on his way to classes. It took a good twenty minutes until the tour ended, but they ended up in front of the gymnasium.

"Before you get your class schedules I have to take you into the gym where you get to go through power placement."

"What's that?" the girl who Jon had sat by on the bus leaned over and whispered. She looked nervous, and he was too. His mother had never mentioned anything about 'power placement'.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

Shaun Wilson, student body president, led the group of freshman to the gymnasium. There was a man with an afro standing in shorts with a whistle and a stop watch around his neck.

"Hey kids, I'm Coach Split." He smiled, and then divided himself so that there was an exact doppelganger standing next to him.

"I'll call your name," the first coach said.

"And you'll come up here and show me your power," the doppelganger finished.

They stepped into each other and became one man again, "And I don't want any complaints. If you're a hero, you're a hero. A sidekick is a sidekick. Now let's get a move on."

"Sidekicks can sit on it," Boomer leaned over between Jon and the girl and whispered. Boomer was mean, and apparently thought it was awesome to quote 'Happy Days.'

"Josephine Del Marco!"

Josie approached all smiles, she looked up, stretched her arms and hovered for a second, then flew around the room gracefully and then landed where she had started.

"A flyer? Hero."

She smiled even bigger and she rejoined the group.

"Thomas Boomowski."

Boomer smiled too, but cockily and he stood in front of Coach Split for a few minutes without doing anything.

"Don't waste my time boy, do 'yo thing!"

"WHAT WAS THAT? COACH?" he sonic screamed over the entire gym, causing students to loose footing.

"Damn, boy you is loud!" Split said, "Hero."

Boomer waved his hands in the air like it was all just natural to him.

Josie silently sneered as he brushed past her. Jon knew Josie and Boomer had never gotten along. They fought at recess all the time for most of their elementary lives.

"Susanna Tenny."

The quiet girl in the glasses was the owner of that name. She had a round, pale face, and long dark hair.

"What is your talent, young lady?"

She bit her lip, "Do you have any kind of machine that needs fixed?"

The Coach really didn't know how to respond.

Susanna continued before Split could say something belittling, "I mean, I can repair and create machines. If your car engine is broken, I can fix it…with my head."

Some of the group of students chuckled at her wording. Susanna glared at them.

Split, handed over his wristwatch, and told her to fix the minute hand as it wasn't working. She squinted hard at the watch and after mere seconds, a small grin reached her lips. She handed it back to Split who said, "I'll be damned. Never seen anything like that before."

Susanna smiled even brighter but it dropped to nothing after the Coach said, "But that trick can't save the world, science geek. Sidekick."

Susanna pushed her way back to where she had been standing, and Jon could have sworn he saw tears brushing Susanna's dark lashes—they were magnified by her glasses—but he didn't have time to stare for too long because Split called "Jonathan Boy."

Here I go, he thought, wondering why his mother hadn't mentioned that they were assigned to be heroes or sidekicks. He always assumed that his mother _chose_ to be a sidekick so she could have a family—not having to fight as often as a hero would. Maybe she didn't want him to fret.

Jon could feel the sweat start to bead on his forehead; he sensed Coach Split's pen start to roll off of the clipboard he was holding. Before it fell even a few centimeters, Jon caught it and handed it back.

"Thanks, boy, now show me what you can do."

"I…I just demonstrated it."

"Giving me back my pen?"

The kids laughed at Jon's awkwardness and fast reddening cheeks. Boomer of course, laughed the loudest.

"No…I have unusually fast reflexes and reactions."

The coach nodded his head, rubbed his 'stash and marked him on the clipboard.

"Sidekick."

Jon's heart sank. He knew he could never be in the hero class with _those_ abilities, but just didn't want to admit it.

He stood next to Susanna again, with a dejected sigh. So far they were the only two sidekicks.

They watched as Lynda transformed into a glowing ball of energy and zipped around the gym, she was classified as 'hero.'

A strange, strange, _strange_ kid with no first name and a huge head that went by 'Medulla' walked up to Coach Split.

"What's wrong 'wit 'yo head boy?"

"It's not wrong. Its _right_," he stated with an odd stare and an unnerving grin. He took a colorful puzzle cube from his pocket, and after 3 moves, it was fully done—each side a full color. It was impressive as it looked hard to solve.

"So you're a super genius huh?" Split commented and chuckled. "You can do defense but I need a good offense player as well. Sidekick."

Medulla shrugged, keeping his grin. He stuffed his cube back in his pocket and joined the students.

"Steven Stronghold."

They saw a handsome, built young man stand next to the Coach. Jon had never heard of him before. He took a look to see if any one else was registering who the 'Stronghold' lad was.

"Hi. I moved here from California, Iron Fist is my dad…"

There was a unanimous gasp, for they all had heard of the Fist before. This kid was related to the Iron Fist?

"That don't mean nothin' to me boy. Now show me whatcha got."

Steven shrugged as if to say 'you asked for it' and with a smile punched the floor of the gym. The wooden panels busted apart and they all could feel the school physically jerk. _I hope the school doesn't fall out of the sky!! _His mind frantically screamed. Susanna, who was standing next to Jon, lost her footing and fell into him, but with his super knack for fast reactions, he caught her in a heartbeat. She stared at him—she had pretty, wide brown eyes—wide and sad. When the floor stopped rumbling, he let her go and she took an extra step away from him.

He looked around to see if everyone was all right, it was just a natural reaction. He stopped though, when he saw the look on Josie's face. She was absolutely drooling at Steve Stronghold. Stronghold didn't seem to notice, he was just smiling a cocky grin that reminded Jon all the world of Boomer. Boomer was brushing off Steve's power like it was no big deal to another kid standing next to him. Looked like Shaun Wilson, student body president, and the school's most indestructible student was in for some competition.

Split unintentionally had divided into two of himself after Stronghold bashed the floor in. He coughed a couple times, formed into one again and said, "Hero."

The other students showed their powers, and after most were finished Jon counted that the number of heroes in his class was one short to the number of the sidekicks.

The gym doors opened, and in walked a guy who was basically brooding so much he casted a gloom over the whole group.

"You're late!" Split shouted, irritated.

"Yeah, I know." The guy shrugged.

"Well get your white-ass up here and show me your power. I don't get paid 'nough for your punk-ass sass. What's your name boy?"

"Baron Battle."

Baron then launched a stream of fire out of his arm and at the tournament plaques that lined the wall. The bronze plates melted a bit and dripped to the broken floor.

Split had seen enough, "Hero."

"For now," was all Baron said, and quite ominously as he left the spotlight.


	2. I

The power placement took all of the morning so by the time Baron had arrived, it was already lunch time. Now, more than ever before the new students were placed into invisible yet forcible cliques. The hero guys bonded over sloppy joes and the hero girls only had eyes for them. The sidekicks were scattered like dust in the wind.

Jon sat with Medulla just because he really had nowhere else to sit.

"Nice work with the cube there, where'd you get it?" he said to initiate conversation.

"It came from Europe. They'll catch on soon I'm sure. That was nothing though, I created a shrink ray when I was three," Medulla stated with indifference—like he had just said the capital of Utah.

"Shrink rays are real?" Jon asked, not quite sure to believe the strange kid.

"Anything is possible if I put my mind to it, it's quite large you know."

He stared at Medulla's gigantic head and silently agreed.

"Can we join you?" the girl with glasses—Susanna—asked apprehensively, as she showed up next to their table. A skinny kid with a distinguishably pointed nose stood next to her.

"Sure," he shrugged.

They took their seats.

"Who are you? I didn't see you at power placement this morning," Medulla pointed his fork at her skinny companion.

The kid laughed nervously, "I'm Dave Grayson, a sophomore sidekick."

"What's your power?"

He chuckled again, "Bad jokes."

"Get real!" Medulla stared at him.

"No joke, it can be handy sometimes—it will really throw off bullies but most of the time they just try to strangle me so they don't have to listen to another one."

"How is that a power? Normal people can tell bad jokes," Jon asked.

"I can't help it though. Do you think I would if I knew I'd get bent most of the time?"

Jon shrugged at Dave's point, but really couldn't get behind the idea of his power. Maybe his one of his parents were desperate to put him in their alma mater, otherwise he could have fit in at a normal high school. He looked at Susanna; she was quietly nibbling on her sloppy joe.

"You're Susanna right?"

She looked up sharply, "Sue."

"We sat next to each other on the bus."

She nodded, and looked away bored-like. They all saw an approaching Boomer. He was on his way to the hero guy table with Steven, and others. He was wearing headphones for his new Walkman and turned down the volume when he got near.

"Well if it isn't the loser table!" he said so loud the whole room could hear.

"Jeez, Tom, shut up!" Jon glowered.

"Am I right though, a bunch of pathetically-powered whiner babies?"

Sue narrowed her eyes and suddenly his music was blasting loud enough the whole room could hear. Everyone was now aware that Boomer listened to Gloria Gaynor as "I will survive…" sang across the room.

He snatched his headphones off and fumbled with the volume control but it wouldn't turn lower. "What the crap?"

"_As long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive…"_

The students started laughing at the sight of Boomer freaking out about his Walkman while Ms. Gaynor belted out her anthem. Didn't Boomer know Disco was _not _cool anymore? Finally, frustrated and confused Boomer ejected the cassette tape and threw it at them. Jon caught it instantly since his reflexes were fast.

He tried handing it back but Boomer shrugged him off and sat at the table of freshman heroes.

"Jeez, what a wacky Walkman, they're like 200 hundred dollars or something right?" Jon mumbled.

He looked at the rest of them to see if they agreed but Medulla and Dave were staring awestruck at Sue. Jon had no idea why.

"They made you a _sidekick_?" Medulla was flabbergasted.

Sue just nodded with a look mixed of hopelessness and anger.

Then Jon realized Sue was the one who caused Boomer's Walkman to malfunction. She, a sidekick caused a hero discomfort. It was basically unheard of.

"What is it you do again, Sue?"

"I control technology with my mind," she licked her finger that had extra sloppy joe sauce. He had remembered her being upset about her placement but now she acted like she was over it.

"Instead of a psychopath you could be a technopath, heh heh heh!" Dave said and laughed irritably.

"Oh man, you laugh at your own jokes too!?" Medulla was suddenly laughing along with Dave but more at him.

Sue gave Dave a cold look that warned him he better watch his alarm clock or else…

"I've never heard of a power like that before," Jon mused. He knew all about powers because as soon as he found out about his power he studied superheroes and all the kinds of powers they possessed. He'd never come across anyone or any mention of hers.

"Yeah, well I've never heard of fast reflexes being a power either," she snapped and stood, grabbing her tray—suddenly upset again.

Jon sighed, not knowing why he made her angry. He spotted Josie across the way. She was gossiping with Lynda and a few other new freshman girls he had never seen before the power placement. Still, Josie was the most radiating girl in the room. Her smile could light up Maxville if she wanted to. He found himself ogling until Medulla poked him and wondered why he looked so spazzed out.

"I'm not spazzing out," Jon said calmly, snapping back to the real world. In his world Josie was his girlfriend and all the other guys in school were jealous he had such a beautiful and amazing girlfriend. Reality came crashing down on his daydreams when yet again he saw Josie give Stronghold the same sly, flirty look she had in the gymnasium that morning as she passed his table on the way to return her lunch tray.

_What's so great about him?_ Jon wondered. Steven was handsome and powerful but he didn't even notice Josie looking at him! How could the guy not notice such a wonderful girl? Instead, Baron and Steven were arguing about something. It wasn't until the argument escalated to shouting that Jon noticed what was being said.

"Your dad is communist! How can you not see?" Baron exploded.

"How is my old man communist?!" Steven demanded to know, striking his fist against the table, cracking it in half.

"Why else would he call himself the _Iron Fist_?"

"He's a master of martial arts you moron! He's not a suppressive governing figure! He's not _Stalin_!"

"I heard he wouldn't let anyone in L.A. light a cigarette for a whole month! He would break their fingers if he caught them trying."

"Not true," Stronghold crossed his arms and looked away with a scowl, "Even though July is a perfect month to start a forest fire and L.A. has enough smog as it is."

"Whatever Stronghold—you and your family have to have it your way or nothing. I've read about your old man and his unforgiving ways."

"You're just a conspiracy wacko!"

Baron's hands were suddenly ignited and Stronghold had to duck fast to miss a hurling fireball.

Everyone in the cafeteria watched to see what happened next. Josie, Lynda, Jon, Medulla, Dave, Boomer, were all still and quiet.

Stronghold took in a breath, looking as though he would like to reciprocate but struggling with the fact he would get into trouble if he did. Baron smirked as the banner above Steven's head burned, sending little wisps of ashes floating into his perfectly combed hair. Baron then looked around at everyone with the same smirk, he was not to be messed with, and if anyone did they would be toast.

Stronghold grabbed his empty lunch tray and lunged at Baron's turned back, whacking him across the back of the head with it. Baron fell immediately to the floor, unconscious from the impact.

Shaun Wilson, student body president, stepped forward then with the vice principal, Cardiano.

"Pick him up and follow me," Cardiano said with a glare and a rough voice.

Steven frowned, took Baron's arm and threw him over his shoulder and then followed the vice principal out of the cafeteria.

"Oh man, that was intense!" Boomer quickly cut the silence with his loud voice.

"You know what else is intense?" Dave piped up.

"What?" Boomer grabbed Dave by his shirt collar and demanded to know.

"Camping! Get it? Intense—_in tents_! Heh heh heh!"

Boomer started laughing along with him but suddenly stopped, throwing Dave to the ground forcibly, "That's a horrible joke!"

Dave held his neck and tried not to keep sputtering with laughter at his own bad joke.

Jon sighed, it was starting to be an intense day altogether.

---

He had his core sidekick class with a teacher named Mr. Bitters. He didn't know if Bitters was called that because he was always bitter or because of the never-ending bitter tasting coffee he gulped down. Bitters had brownish gray whiskers from being unshaven, and slovenly. He wore small spectacles attached to a chain, and a gaudy orange bow-tie.

"Welcome to sidekick class. Just to let you know, sidekicks really amount to nothing in life, in fact, most will end up going inactive or teaching super-high school…" Bitters rambled, swinging his mug around with indifference, getting little splashes of coffee on his button-down shirt.

Jon promised himself then, if he ever _did _end up teaching super-high school he would at least try to give his students hope and optimism instead of crash them down on the first day.

Bitters then went on to explain the duty of sidekicks, how they provided support to heroes in times of need and so on and so on…Jon felt bored and just when he had lost all interest in his future, he heard, "And then on graduation day you are paired with a hero."

This brought his hopes back. Maybe he would be paired with Josie! He could provide fast reactions and reflexes and she could fly him places, it would be perfect fighting crime with her!

They played a 'get to know your classmate' game after that. They were given ten minutes to find a partner, learn a few things about them and then report it to the class afterwards.

No one came to him so he decided to overcome his awkward shyness and find his own partner. There was only one other person that was just as shy and awkward, and that was Susanna Tenny.

"Hey," he approached her cautiously as she might have still been upset over who-knew-what at lunch.

"Hi," she replied, and took a piece of paper out of a notebook on her desk.

"So tell me about yourself Sue," Jon smiled and clicked his pen to take some notes on her.

"My mom died when I was a baby, my dad is a perfectionist asshole, and my birthday is in May, I'll be 15."

Jon's blue eyes widened at her admission, "Oh, I'm sorr—"

"No, don't be sorry. I hate it when people dish out false sympathy. I think you know enough about me now. What about you?" she said quickly and readied her pencil.

"Erm, well…my mom is the one with powers, she works with Vault when she's not covering as a flower boutique owner. She can keep—"

"Not to be rude, but I'm supposed to know about _you_ not, your _mom_," Sue sighed.

Jon thought of any interesting thing he could tell her but realized he wasn't a very exciting person, really boring actually.

"Well, I did 100 push ups everyday this last summer."

"Why?"

"I was hoping to beef up for school…"

He caught a slight twist in the corner of her mouth—she thought the concept of him beefing up was humorous! He frowned, "Never mind."

They stared at each other awkwardly for the next five minutes and only had ridiculous information to share about each other. When it was their turns to stand in front of the class, Jon had no idea what to do! If he couldn't even complete this simple assignment, how was the rest of high school to play out?!

"This is Jon. He has fast reactions, his parents own a beach house in Aruba, he swam the Caribbean Sea, and he's had four girlfriends at once," Sue listed off, like she was reading it off her paper.

The other kids in the class looked impressed; some of the boys gave him nods of approval. He smiled wide, liking the new respect—as under false pretence as it was. When it was his turn he didn't even read off his paper.

"This is Sue. She can fix anything technological, she was born in Antarctica, she gets all her clothes from 5th Avenue, and she can tap dance."

"Thank you kids, take a seat," Bitters said, not even suspecting the lies they spoke. Jon took a glance at Sue, and she was subtly grinning with approval. He grinned back, suspecting he may have made a new friend.


	3. II

Jon came to discover that he did get to see Josie besides passing periods and lunchtime. Sky High's physical education extended to the whole school, at the end of the day. Coach Split was in two, the doppelganger instructing the sidekick classes, and the original commanding the hero class.

Josie wore pink running shorts and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Original Split, or as the older students called him—_O-Split_ and his doppelganger was referred to as _Split-D_—was having the heroes do jumping jacks for warm-ups.

Jon and his classmates were doing sit-ups but he found it hard to concentrate with Josie right across the gymnasium, and…jiggling like that.

"Boy, pay attention!" Split-D shouted because Jon had stayed in the upright position for more than a minute when he still had 10 sit-ups to go.

"Sorry Coach—"

"Don't apologize, just finish it!"

He felt his face get red, and tried to concentrate on using his worthless abdominal muscles to lift himself.

When each class was done with their warm-ups, Coach Split returned to his full self and told everyone to sit in the bleachers. Since it was the first day, not everyone knew who was sidekick and who was hero. They intermingled freely in the bleachers.

"Since it's your first day, I won't bother you down with all the other excersizin' I normally would have you do," he smiled cunningly as students gave appreciative whoops. "Instead I will introduce a game we have here at Sky High called, 'Save the Citizen.'"

Past years' students went wild with clapping and shouting, obviously fans of the game.

"Sounds intriguing," Medulla leaned forward but started to fall because his large forehead threw him off-balance.

"Woah there!" A blonde kid cried and held out his hand, which seemed to control the gravity—turning it off—because Medulla's head shot back up. "That's one helluva frontal lobe you got there."

"Yes. Yes indeed. I thank you…" Medulla straightened himself and raised his brow for an introduction.

"Lance."

"Yes, thank you Lance, for the assistance."

"Hey, no problem. I saw you at power placement this morning. Too bad about the sidekick thing. I liked what you did with the cube—man, it looked fun, you got to show it to me sometime…"

"Well thank you. I believe we are learning a game now," Medulla gave Lance a hypnotizing stare and Lance's attention was back on Coach Split.

Jon noticed this ability but didn't say anything, continuing to hear about 'Save the Citizen.'

"Its game designed to keep your skills and power up to par. We have two teams—the villain team and the hero team. A volunteer citizen is harnessed above this wood chipper…"

They gasped as Split hit a lever on the wall, it buzzed and the middle of the gymnasium opened up to reveal an actual wood chipper. "The villain team will try to stop the hero team from saving the citizen, and of course the hero team will try to save the citizen. The team that wins gets to call who they play next. You have five minutes per round."

A middle-aged man with a big grin entered the gymnasium then. He stood next to Split and waved at the students. Some waved back, as they had saved him last year or the year before.

"This is Bob, he's the citizen you will save. If you fail to save Bob, he has a panic button that will immediately halt the wood chipper so he won't be mulched. If that happens then the hero team has to give me nine laps around the outdoor field plus 500 push ups!"

"That's rough," Lance winced.

"Wilson and Lightfoot, you won the S.T.C. tournament last spring so you two will be first to choose which team you're on and your opponents," Coach nodded at the Seniors.

Shaun Wilson, student body president, and a pretty brunette came to the floor.

"We'll be heroes, and we'll choose Jules and Portman," Shaun Wilson announced.

"Juliana Peace and Jason Portman come on down!" Coach Split shouted holding an imaginary microphone, and said it like Bob Barker.

_Looks like someone's a fan of the Price is Right_, Jon smirked to himself.

A girl and a boy joined them. They stood at opposite ends of the gym while Bob got himself tied into the harness. Split hit another lever and it raised Bob to the ceiling.

"Three…two…one…GO!" Split shouted, taking out his stopwatch.

Bob immediately started wriggling and screaming for help, which was why he was so good at being a citizen.

The girl, Lightfoot at once changed size so she was about twelve feet tall from her previous, normal height of about 5'6". She was going to jump up and grab Bob but the other girl, the villain team member 'Jules' rushed at her, grabbed her thigh and closed her eyes.

Lightfoot melted—but not literally—to the floor with a content expression on her face. She was suddenly all rainbows and butterflies. Shaun Wilson, student body president, climbed to the side of the wood chipper, not concerned with falling as he would do more damage to it than it would to him. Jon had heard that Shaun's skin structure was under coated with titanium making him impossible to puncture.

"I'll 'getcha Bob!" he shouted up but the other boy, Portman leaped into the student body president and as soon as he grabbed him, disappeared. The unknowing freshman were bewildered at where the two had gone to.

With a '_poof_´ they reappeared in the bleachers, sending some startled students scattering. Adam waved goodbye to Shaun Wilson, student body president, and teleported back to the gym floor.

Lightfoot had snapped out of her joy trip and seeing Jules come at her with another wave, shrank to a tiny size—so tiny no one could see her from the bleachers anymore. Jules tried grabbing at the floor, trying to stop Lightfoot from getting past her. Shaun Wilson, student body president, charged down the bleachers and through the safety guard just as Lightfoot grew to her normal shape. She jumped into his arms and he threw her so she ripped Bob out of his harness as she flew by.

Split shrilly blew his whistle, "Citizen is saved!"

Kids on the bleachers cheered and clapped. Jon had a feeling they would cheer and clap either way—they loved to watch the game. After all, it was suspenseful.

Jules and Portman were gracious losers, clapping for the hero team.

Jon was awed at having witnessed such superpowers. Teleportation, size-shifting, indestructibility and a mind-soothe? Amazing! They saved the citizen in less than five minutes!

They had time for one more round and the hero team chose two more students to go up against. The villain team this time was made up of a human-blob guy and a lightning girl.

The heroes won again but the 10 minute-bell rang so everyone had to suit out and go home.

Jon changed out of his gym clothes very fast, as it was a reflex of the bell ringing for the end of the day. Boomer sauntered up while in his 'Disco Sucks' t-shirt he used for phys-ed.

"I want my cassette tape back, Jonnyboy," he whispered in a hiss, while putting his arm around Jon to look like they were having a friendly conversation.

Jon shrugged it off and nodded at Boomer's shirt, "Why do you want it back if you think Disco sucks?"

Boomer made a grumbling noise and left Jon but not without twisting the skin of his arm with a pinch.

"Ow!" he pulled away, quicker than ever. Boomer knew how fast he had to be to hurt Jon, he had 10 years to figure it out. 10 years of dodge ball and recess to discover Jonathan Boy was one fast kid when it came to reactions or reflexes. Jon didn't have super speed by any means but his reaction time could be the difference between someone's life or death.

---

Jon got to his home and the first thing he did was collapse on the sofa and sigh. _What a day! Heh!_ He thought to himself and looked at the ceiling. His mother must have baked cookies after he departed for school because there was a plate full of chocolate chip ones on the kitchen counter with a note that had a heart on it.

He gladly took a cookie and nibbled on it while pulling out the only assignment he had gotten the first day from Mr Bitters. He looked over the piece of paper, at the cheerless notes about that strange girl. He laughed outwardly though, remembering the lies he told about her. He thought she was cold so he claimed she was born in Antarctica, the part about 5th avenue was a complete falsehood for she wasn't dressed that grand, and he didn't know why he claimed she could tap dance. Sue didn't seem like the person to ever dance at all.

He finished off three more cookies before turning on the TV to watch a re-run of one of the After School Specials. It was the one about the rich boy with seven wishes. He had seen it last spring but started to watch it again anyway because there was nothing else interesting on television until eight o' clock.

His dad arrived home at five from his job as an insurance man. He looked over injury cases and decided whether or not the person should receive money for their wounds.

"Hiya pops," Jon called from the sofa, zoning out at the TV screen.

"How was your first day?"

"Intense."

"Really?" His dad wondered. After all, his dad didn't have superpowers and was curious about the lives of those who did.

"Two boys got in a fight and I met a few new kids."

"Is _Josephine_ in any of your classes?" His dad wiggled his eyebrows.

Jon had accidentally let it slip to his father that he had it bad for Josie Del Marco. He made his dad swear never to tell his mom or Mr. Del Marco in passing. His dad was goofy by nature, and Jon often thought he, himself had inherited it.

He sighed because his dad didn't know anything about the super-high school dichotomy. "No."

"Well did you at least get to talk to her?"

"Well, sort of—at the bus stop until Tom came along," Jon clicked off the television with the remote control to concentrate on his father.

"That Boomowski kid sure is a cheese weasel," his dad shook his head.

Jon nodded in absolute agreement.

"Your mother must be working tonight," his dad noted while spreading the evening paper open to read.

"Well yeah, she has a job…"

"I mean _working_, son," his dad raised a secretive brow as he peeked over the newspaper. Jon nodded, realizing his father meant his mom was out being a sidekick for Vault. Vault was a super-jumper. He could leap from the ground to the top of Maxville's highest skyscraper. He could also jump as far as a man could run in a hundred steps.

His mother had a fast tongue. She could keep onlookers at bay while the Vault tracked down vandals on foot. He just wanted to do it in peace, so he had Mrs. Boy use her quick tongue to explain the situation and keep any crowd that formed initiated in conversation. Her power was also handy for selling flowers. Her sidekick name was _Silver-Tongue_.

"So what new kids did you meet?"

"Well I met a boy named 'Medulla' and he has a big head—"

"He's cocky?"

"Kind of, but no—he literally has a _big head_. I'm talking like this," Jon held out his hand from his forehead to show.

"Bizarre! Who else?"

"A kid that laughs at his own bad jokes, and then a girl…"

"A girl?!" The newspaper was down and his dad's attention was piqued, for he knew his son was shy and awkward and it was a surprise he had met someone of the opposite gender.

"Yeah, she's just a girl," he shrugged.

"How many words did you speak to her?"

"We sort of had conversations…"

"Wilikers! My son had conversations with a _girl_ all in one day?" I gotta call the press!" his dad exclaimed and held his hand to his brow dramatically.

"Cut it out dad," Jon was tired of his father's mocking, as playful as it was.

"Alright, Alright I see. She can't compare to _thee_ Josephine Del Marco," His dad resumed his reading of the newspaper.

_No one can compare to Josie_, Jon frowned. Just thinking of her face, her smile, sent his heart to the sky. He could remember the day he fell in love with her. They were in fourth grade and Jon was swinging on the swing set at the elementary school. It was before any of them knew about their inherited superpowers, they were just regular children then.

_He was swinging and then Josie took the swing next to him._

"_Race ya!" she shouted._

_He was even shy back then, but took up her challenge and started pumping his legs as hard as he could to get the highest first. He thought he was winning but she had gotten there first. She looked over at him with a face full of glee, but not because she had beat him. _

"_It's like flying!" she sang and closed her eyes._

_He wanted to ask her how she knew but couldn't muster enough gall for words. Instead he closed his eyes too and felt dizzy from the motion paired with darkness._

"_Eahhh!" he screamed as he fell out of his swing and onto the sand._

_Josie halted her swing by digging her shoes into the sand._

"_HA! Jonny you dork-head!" Tommy Boomowski slapped his knees with amusement. "Can't even ride a swing!"_

"_Shut-up Tommy! You're just a meanie! Go learn something!"_

"_What do you know,__** Grossie**__!"_

"_I know my multiplication tables!"_

"_So do I!" Boomer retorted._

_Josie put her hands on her hips and sniffed, "Oh yeah? What's 5 x 4?"_

_Boomer looked up, trying to remember but got frustrated by the pressure of answering and shouted the wrong number, "Eighteen!"_

"_You're wrong!"_

_He stalked off glaring at them both._

"_You okay, Jonny?" she asked and helped him stand._

"_Yeah," he wiped his nose, staring at her and knowing he would love her for the rest of his life._

If she would only realize he was there. Stronghold wasn't good enough for her anyway, only Jon was—well, in his world.

His mother came back later, right in the middle of him watching 'Charlie's Angels.'

"Sorry I'm back later than usual," his mother gasped like she was struggling for air. "There was a burglary on 5th Avenue and it took Vault 20 minutes trying to find the suspect."

"Sounds like Vault is losing his jump," his father mused with a slight snidness.

His mother scowled, "He is not! Don't be such a downer."

Jon looked at his dad and couldn't imagine anyone ever calling him a 'downer.' His dad brought laughs all around. There was something exchanged in their looks then, something far too grown up and removed for Jonathan to understand. So he went back to watching foxy crime fighters. Kelly was his favorite angel—she was the smartest, every other guy loved Jill but only because Jill was played by Farrah and Farrah was sexy.

His mother threw off her shoes by the doorway kissed her son on the cheek, "How was school honey?"

He told her the same thing he told his dad, minus all the Josie parts. His mom was just as surprised as his dad at the mention of Sue. She gave him the same intrigued brow raise at the mention of it.

"She's just a girl," Jon reiterated, hoping his mother didn't assume he liked her just because they may have had a couple of conversations…sort of.

"What's her power?"

"She uh, she can control technology."

His parents looked at each other confused, "How?"

"She can cause a Walkman's sound to stay at the highest volume without touching it," was the only thing he could think of that he had witnessed.

"That's nice," his mother was still unsure about the nature of Sue's power. She also might have not known what a Walkman was yet.

His parents watched the rest of Charlie's Angels with him, and then he went to bed. He wasn't asleep before he heard arguing. It was muffled but his dad was shouting and his mother was matching in volume, but much more eloquently. He had heard it before, their shouts of malcontent after he was supposed to be asleep. He wished they would stop and just love each other like they used to. He didn't know why they were so angry with each other as of late, but hoped it would be resolved. His fast reactions wouldn't be able to fix everything, he sadly realized as he fell asleep


	4. III

Jon went through the rest of that first week, learning about how to be a proper sidekick, yearning for Josie, and gradually getting to know his band of fellow sidekick-misfits.

"So, you have to learn that when your hero is being interviewed after catching a bad-guy…" Bitters stopped lecturing to take a sip of his coffee, "You gotta learn, even if you helped out through most of it, that the press wants to interview _them_, not _you_. The press doesn't have much use for a sidekick's interview unless you happen to do something immaculate. Like,I don't know…saving the president's life after a villain conks your hero out or something."

"So even if we do most of the work the hero reaps all the fame and glory?" Jon raised his hand and asked, not seeing the justice or fairness in that concept at all.

"Bingo!" Bitters pointed at him like a gun and winked.

"BITTERS!" they heard a growl from the classroom doorway. Everyone initially jumped because there was no prior hint he was there. Vice Principal Cardiano stood there with a surprised brow and a threatening glare.

"Whatcha need Cardiano?"

"Please step out in the hallway for a moment."

Jon and Medulla exchanged looks, thinking their teacher was in for it—he was instilling resent in their minds for their eventual partners-in-crime.

After the door closed the class began to chatter to one another. Some talked of the unfairness of the hero-sidekick system.

"Bitters laces his coffee with vodka," Sue leaned over and told them—she was sitting behind Medulla. Her statement attracted other students' attention.

"What?"

"That's why he's so off-balance, he's constantly intoxicated."

"Nuh uh! Get out of here!"

"How would _you_ know?" Jon asked.

"I saw him sneak a flask into his jacket in the teacher's lounge, I saw him do it Tuesday morning."

"Wait, what were you doing over there?"

"Yeah, students aren't allowed in the teacher's lounge!"

Sue huffed and wiped her bangs from in front of her glasses, "Bitters asked me to fix the coffee machine—its wiring was fried."

The students believed that, because the man looked like he would fall asleep all day if he didn't constantly have an endless supply of Folgers. Sue gave them all a '_so there_' glare and then the door to the classroom opened back up.

Bitters trudged in, looking more worse for wear, "Okay, so as I was saying…"

He laid off any more resentful tones towards heroes for the rest of the day. They learned about the different types of bad guys and were told to expect a pop quiz within the next two weeks.

"I wonder what we're going to do in Phys-ed today?" Jon wondered to a classmate—Phil Ramirez. Phil was a sophomore sidekick, and a bit overweight but that was because he couldn't control his eating urges. It didn't help that his power involved food.

"I don't know but I could sure go for Mars Bar!" Phil rubbed his hands together, and then all of a sudden there was a Mars Bar hovering in front of his face from out of thin air. Well, at least Phil would never go hungry with his power. Phil plucked the candy bar out of the air and started wolfing it down.

Jon didn't even warn Phil that it was a bad idea to eat sweets before Coach split had them run laps or something else physically draining. They suited out and Jon reminded himself it was his favorite time of day, the time he got to see Josie for a whole fifty minutes.

Jon wore an old pair of red shorts and a t-shirt that looked too big on him because he was so skinny—but it met the phys-ed. uniform requirement. Medulla actually found a sweatband big enough to fit around his head and wore that despite all the jeers of the upperclassmen heroes.

Lance, the kid with gravity control, was the only hero their age not to go to the other side of the hallway when the sidekicks passed. Lance was just a friendly kid and was clueless to the fact that he would be a whole lot cooler if he didn't over-associate with sidekicks.

"Hey, Lance," Medulla gave him a low-five as he exited the locker room.

"Hey buddy!" Lance gladly received it. Lance was a little late getting to the locker room from his last class, so he opened his messy locker and pulled his gym clothes out. They didn't fall, but floated out as if they were in outer-space. It was easy as pie to slip out of his clothes in zero-gravity, and just as easy to get dressed.

They made it out to the gymnasium floor in time to start Split-D's warm up exercises. They had to do a hundred push-ups, which was the norm for Jon as he had practiced all summer—but most of the rest of the sidekicks struggled.

"Dodge ball! Heroes versus tha sidekicks!" O-Split shouted and pulled a blue lever in the wall. Parts of the ceiling opened up and many balls dropped to the outreached hands of the students.

The midline that crossed the gym was the boundary of which the kids were not to cross. The bleacher side was Hero territory and the wall side was meant to be the sidekicks' domain.

Jon went into fast reaction mode immediately, dodging any ball that was thrown at him.

Medulla was hit immediately, for his head was a perfect target.

Jon had played dodge ball in junior high, right after he got his powers and found that winning dodge ball was easy—but dodge ball in a super-high school was different. Students were allowed to use their powers.

Medulla trudged across the territory line and took a seat in the bleachers—the place you were to go when you were tagged out by the ball.

Lance threw a ball from the hero side, but instead of arcing downward, it floated over head and when it was over a sidekick's head, would drop immediately. Lance tried to high five Boomer but Boomer pushed him away and aimed a ball at Jon. Jon ducked naturally, missing it of course. It was Boomer's personal mission to tag Jon out in dodge ball—he had been trying for many years to accomplish it but never succeeded.

Balls were whizzing past Jon's face, and he had to be extra careful just in case Portman teleported from the far back to the boundary line and suddenly chucked a ball at him. Lightfoot was a tricky opponent too because she would change size to dodge any balls that were thrown her way.

Phil got hit in his portly stomach and started moaning about being sick. Split-D sent him to the Nurse Spex's office with a few belittling words about how he shouldn't eat so much. Split was in two, patrolling the backs of both boundaries and blowing his whistles when he someone tagged.

Jon looked around to see who was left. Dave Grayson, Sue, and a handful of others were doing their best at dodging. He noticed there were far more heroes left in the game and it was because they weren't dodging, they were doing most if all of the throwing. Jon quickly picked up a ball, twisted his arm back and hurled it at the heroes. It was though they had never seen a dodge ball come at them before, and when Jon's ball hit the other side, it tagged Shaun Wilson, student body president, out of the game.

Suddenly, all of the heroes' eyes—even Josie's—were on Jon. Boomer smirked and threw another ball, but Jon sidestepped it.

"We need to play an offense!" he shouted back to the few sidekicks left, trying not to be distracted by the fact Josie's attention was on him for once.

They nodded and tried to find balls to throw and still not get hit. Sue threw one and it tagged Lynda out. Dave's ball tagged Lance. With the sidekicks being the ones to throw the balls, the heroes were a little rusty at dodging them. O-Split was encouraging the heroes on as Split-D mocked their loss and lack of dodge skill.

"I'm gonna get you Jonnyboy!" Boomer sonic screamed and threw a ball at Jon's head. Jon was knocked out of the way by Sue as she hurled a ball at Boomer, who was laughing. Sue successfully dodged Boomer's ball by falling to the ground—her ball hit Boomer in his nose. O-Split blew his whistle and jerked his thumb towards the bleachers for Boomer. Boomer scowled and stalked off the floor to join the fallen heroes.

"Thanks, are you okay?" Jon asked as he helped Sue stand.

"Yea—" she smiled, looked like she was having the time of her life, but an incoming ball knocked her hard in the side of her head.

"OW!" she screamed as the jerk of her head sent her glasses falling off, skittering across the hardwood floor. Jon reacted fast, first by pulling her out of the way from another ball. He grabbed her hand and led her to her glasses.

She fumbled to put them back on and before Jon could warn her, another ball from the hero's side hit her in the back. She shouted again but the whistle of Split-D was the overriding sound—she was finally out of the game.

Jon watched as more heroes fell, but at the cost of his remaining teammates. It was finally down to him and Portman. Portman found dodging easy, for he just teleported away from it. Jon tied predicting where his arrivals would be and aim towards the other side of the gym so the ball would hit Portman as he reappeared.

The game was at a standstill. The bell rang and Jon sighed relieved looking to his fallen teammates who were giving him thumbs-up and nods of approval. Unfortunately Portman was a dirty player and teleported right in front of Jon, slamming him with a ball so fast, he couldn't dodge it—no matter how fast of reflexes he had.

The heroes shot up from their seats with happy screams and cheers. Apparently the Splits would let that dirty move slide and the heroes _did _officially win the game for the day.

"Well, you did a good job," Medulla slapped Jon on the back and headed toward the showers.

Jon nodded, knowing it was true, but was still disheartened at the fact he had lost. The heroes would never let a sidekick win it seemed, because they could never live it down.

Not that all heroes were mean, or aloof. Lance was a good example of an every-friend. Shaun Wilson was cordial enough but Jon never really had much exposure to him as Shaun and his friends were seniors. Baron, Steve, and Lynda basically pretended sidekicks didn't exist.

Boomer tried to cause grief whenever he could, but that was because he was…well Boomer.

As for his beloved Josie, Jon knew she was a nice girl and would not pretend he didn't exist if he ever got courage to talk to her. But his problem was that he never talked to her so he never knew what would happen there.

He stood in the middle of the gymnasium as students hit the showers. Phil finally came back and asked what had happened.

"We lost," Jon told the truth.


	5. IV

He rode the bus back to his neighborhood and ended up sitting by Sue again.

"Are you alright? That ball knocked you pretty hard there, Sue," Jon asked.

"I guess so. I mean, I have a crack in my glasses now and my dad won't be happy about that…"

Jon remembered she had said her father was a little uptight.

"So uh, what does your dad do?"

"He's a scientist. He creates devices for the military, and for some reason he treats me like I'm one of the recruits," she said, but crossed her arms and looked out the window. He found her to do that when she was done talking about a subject.

He nodded thoughtfully and looked ahead, the near win of dodge ball still fresh in his mind—and the impressed look in Josie's blue eyes.

He got off the bus and was thankful for the weekend. He never had any friends that wanted to hang out with him before, but was surprised when Medulla exchanged phone numbers with him after school the other day. So maybe this year was looking up for Jon.

He rummaged through his backpack and found Boomer's Gloria Gaynor tape. He knew Boomer didn't deserve to get it back but Jon was morally obligated to do the right thing always. He shuffled his feet across the street and rang the Boomowski's doorbell.

Mrs. Boomowski opened the door and peered down at Jon with a grin, "Why Jonny Boy, what brings you to our humble abode?"

_Humble abode_? Jon chuckled in his mind and if one word was the complete opposite of Boomer it was 'humble'.

"Hi yeah, Boomer dropped this at school. I'm returning it."

"Oh this is Tommy's favorite, he'll be so happy to have it back," Boomer's mother gushed and Jon dropped it into her hand. "TOMMY! TOMMY! JONNY'S HERE!" She wasn't a super screamer but she was loud enough for a ringing to start in Jon's ear.

"Actually, I have to go…" Jon began to say and pointed back to his house but Boomer flew down the stairs and was at the threshold nearly immediately after he was called.

"Great," was all he said as his mother handed it over to him. She retreated to somewhere within the Boomowski 'humble abode' and left Boomer and Jon alone.

"So what's this I've been hearing about you having four girlfriends at once?"

Jon felt his cheeks get red, "Oh well…"

"It's total bullshit, Boy. I happen to know you've never gotten any action."

Jon's cheeks became redder, "Shut up! Neither have you!"

Boomer looked taken aback but then sniffed and straightened up, "Of course I have, I'm the Boom-man, and I get lots of _boom boom_."

Jon shook his head with disgust, at Boomer's obvious lies and his dorky euphemism, "Whatever man, have fun with Gloria Gaynor this weekend."

"JON BOY CAN SIT ON IT!" Boomer suddenly sonic screamed, sending Jon sprawling forward and the grass and trees swayed with the vocal wind. Jon rolled over and saw Boomer slam his front door shut.

_Humble abode indeed_! Jon pulled himself up and dusted off his shirt.

When he arrived back to his living room, he had missed a phone call as the answering machine light was blinking.

"Jon, my friend! This is Medulla. I was inquiring if you would be interested in joining me in an excursion of playing billiards at the Fun-time Lounge. Call me back if you are interested."

Jon outwardly laughed at Medulla's advanced vocabulary for basically asking if he wanted to chill out. He dug through his back pack for the return number.

"Medulla, I'll meet you there in 20 minutes," Jon said when Medulla answered the phone. He hung up, changed into a cleaner shirt that wasn't dirty and grass-stained from Boomer's outburst, left a note to his parents, and rode his bike the three miles into town to the Fun-time Lounge where kids hung out on the weekends to go bowling, play pinball, or shoot pool.

It was easy to spot Medulla in the crowd of strangers, as his head poked out above the other heads. He was standing at the concession counter next to Lance. Lance waved him over even though he was already on his way.

"I didn't think it would be this crowded," Jon admitted, squeezing between a chubby girl and Lance.

"It's off the hook here on weekend evenings. I used to come here with my family on Sunday, and it was empty." Lance grabbed an orange soda bottle from the counter.

"We're waiting for the billiards to be available," Medulla added, trying to gain enough elbow room to eat his hot dog.

Jon's stomach grumbled and he ended up ordering a hamburger to pass the time.

"So what's it like in Hero classes?" Jon wondered at Lance.

"Man, we have Mrs. Lorne and she knows when you are lying. I tried to tell her I left my homework at home in order to buy time to finish it and she automatically gave me a 'D' for only doing half!"

"Bummer," Jon replied, and briefly wondered what Mr. Bitters's power was.

After about an hour, a pool table was open. The boys scrambled over and claimed it before another group of kids could.

"Let's play Cutthroat," Lance smiled, gathering the pool balls.

"What's that?"

"A three-player game. You pocket the balls of the other players," Lance explained vaguely, "Just watch; you'll get the hang of it."

Lance set it up and took the first shot, getting the solid orange 5 and the striped red 15 balls in the holes.

"Ok so since I pocketed those, I automatically own the 'mid' balls, that's the balls numbered between 6 and 10. I _don't_ want to shoot those in; I want to shoot all the others in."

Jon nodded, seeming to understand. He took his turn and pocketed the solid red 3 ball.

"Bummer for ya, Medulla! You have the low balls and two in already!" Lance pointed his cue stick at Medulla's head.

Medulla narrowed his eyes and bent over, seeming to calculate where he should aim. He went around the whole pool table and then took a deep breath, positioned his stick and shot the white ball.

Jon and Lance watched as the white ball knocked every single ball except the 1, 2, and 4 balls in different pockets. Their jaws were slack with disbelief.

"I win." Medulla grinned and chalked the end of his cue stick.

"Yeah, man, I don't think I can ever play pool with you again," Lance shook his head.

"You're a drag," Medulla rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, how can you expect us to play after that?" Jon asked.

"It was a one in three-million, five hundred-thousand, and twenty seven chance. It probably won't happen again."

Jon and Lance gave each other the same apprehensive look. Jon ended up shrugging and agreeing to play Medulla again if the chances were better. Lance backed out because he saw some kids from his Hero class at a nearby pool table and went to greet them.

Jon knew how to play a regular 8-ball game. He racked the balls and took the first shot, getting two solids in—which was lucky of him.

Medulla again, studied the balls and their positions, took his shot and pocketed four of his striped balls without accidentally pocketing any of the solids. Jon sighed and Medulla grinned triumphantly.

"Hey guys!" they saw Josie, Lynda, and a couple of other hero freshman girls approach them. Jon's blood froze. She was greeting him? _HIM_? He felt his mouth muscles twitch into a smile, "Hey, how's it hanging?"

"Oh, hi," she glanced over her shoulder with a puzzled smile as she and the group passed his table to one a couple down—it was where Steve Stronghold and another guy was playing pool while Lance chatted with them.

Jon's face was nearly a tomato. He looked at the fluorescent colored carpet under his feet to hide his embarrassment. _Of course she wouldn't be talking to me, what was I thinking?_

"It's your turn," Medulla poked Jon with his cue stick.

Jon took a breath, and studied the table but was already distracted by the presence of Josie. He glanced up as she laughed along with her friends and the heroes. It was so unfair!

Jon gave an extra, frustrated shove into his shot and sent the cue ball hurling off the table, into the air, and into the side of Stronghold's head, before falling to the floor.

It couldn't have hurt Stronghold as he was super strong and impenetrable, but to the normal people around them—the ones without super powers—they winced at the action.

Stronghold turned around, and they could tell he was annoyed.

He picked up the ball and saw it was the fault of some sidekick at his school. Jon's fast reactions were making his feet itch to bolt away, knowing if he were to fight he would lose.

"This yours?" Stronghold held out the ball as he approached.

Jon let out a breath, "Yeah. Look I'm really sorry about that—I accidentally put too much arm into it."

To his surprise Stronghold only smiled, "It's casual, man. I do it too—all the time—because of my strength."

Jon's whole body released its tension, very thankful Stronghold wasn't going to beat him into a pulp. He had a feeling if it had happened to a hero like Boomer, there would be no way to avoid a confrontation. Stronghold dropped the ball into Jon's hand and went back to play his game.

Lance wandered back over awhile later. Jon had lost three games already to Medulla.

"It's a game of calculation," Medulla stated when Jon asked him how he kept winning.

"So you're getting reamed?" Lance asked after Medulla pocket three of his solid balls at once. Jon nodded pathetically and slouched against the table edge, "Man, I told you not to play him."

"Maybe we should go at it," Jon asked and gestured to himself and Lance.

"Yes, please do. I find my skill is far superior and needs a challenge. I'm off to find the best player here." Medulla handed his cue stick to Lance and disappeared into the crowd with his mission.

Lance racked the balls this time and they started a regular 8-ball game. Lance was about as good as Jon—neither of them over analyzed their shots as Medulla had.

"Loose ball!" They heard a shout from behind.

"Jon, watch out!" Lance held out his hand, but Jon's fast reactions kicked in, he spun around and caught the ball to everyone's amazement around them. He looked at it and then over at Stronghold who was waving from his table in apologies.

He walked over to return it, but was suddenly nervous as it was surrounded by Heroes in his grade—and then there was Josie.

"I told you—happens all the time," Stronghold shrugged as Jon handed returned the cue ball.

Jon heard Josie giggle.

"That was a fast response."

"That's my power."

"Ah, well you'll make for a handy sidekick someday."

Jon glanced over at Josie, silently hoping she would be his hero partner when they graduated—in four years. She was looking in his general direction but he could see she was looking past him and to Stronghold. He gave a nod to them and went back to finish his game with Lance. Lance won.

"Want to play again?" Lance asked.

Jon shrugged, he had lost all the games he had played that night, why not one more? "Sure but you pay, I ran out of quarters."

Lance had just released the balls from the holder in the side of the table when a couple upper-classmen heroes approached them.

"We need a table," one said, Jon recognized him as Portman from save the citizen game on the first day—the teleporter who won dodge ball with a cheap shot.

"Sure, but after we're done with our game," Jon said most fairly.

A buddy of Portman's yanked Jon's stick from his hand, "No, we need it now."

"Man, I already paid!" Lance objected.

Portman threw 3 quarters at Lance, "There. Now scram."

One of the heroes shoved Jon away and Lance reluctantly let his cue stick over to Portman.

"What a cheese weasel!" Lance glared as Jon and he left their table.

"Major cheese weasel," Jon agreed.

They saw quite a large group around another pool table and a giant head in the middle of it. They pushed through and found Medulla was reaming some other unfortunate student at pool.

He took one shot and it jumped the other player's ball, and hit two of his in. There was '_ooh-ing_' and '_aw-ing_' from the watchers.

The game was over with two more of Medulla's shots.

The crowd around them clapped and hollered in approval—they liked his skill and were intrigued by his enormous forehead.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Medulla held his stick in the air with a large, victorious grin.

"Hey, Medulla!" Lance waved his long arms back and forth to get his attention.

The crowd sort of dissipated. A number of them stood around to see who the strange kid would challenge next.

"What's happening?"

"So that cheese weasel, Portman stole our table! We were about to play another game. You should challenge him to get it back." Lance positively glared remembering the recent incident.

Medulla narrowed his eyes, "Perhaps."

"Dude, come on—aren't you like the best now?"

"Yes. Yes I am."

They made their way back to their former pool table where Portman and his friends were still shooting.

"Hey, cheese weasel!" Lance barked.

Portman whirled around, saw them and sneered, "What do you want?"

"My man Medulla here, he can beat anyone at pool."

Portman shook his head, "That chump? No way. You nerds better buzz off before we get really pissed off. "

"Oh come on, or are you too chicken to play him?" Lance taunted.

"I'm not afraid. I just don't feel like wasting my time."

"Hear that, he's too chicken to play Medulla!" Lance turned and shouted to the crowd that had followed them. They booed at Portman.

"Fine, I'll play your freak but then afterwards I get ten free punches to each of your guts," Portman pointed at all three of them. Jon gulped. Portman waved off his friends so Medulla could take the table.

"And when Medulla wins, you give us our table back," Lance called the terms.

Portman rolled his eyes with a derisive chortle, "Yeah, okay."

The commotion caught the attention of most of the pool players around them.

Some of them hadn't seen Medulla at work and so thought they were watching an easy victory for Portman. Medulla already had a following of amazed Fun-time Lounge goers who sided with the so-called 'geeks.'

Portman racked the balls and also went ahead with the break. He pocketed two striped balls.

Medulla scrutinized the table and took a shot, pocketed two solids. Portman pressed his lips together and raised his brows with surprise. He then jumped a solid and sunk in another one of his stripes.

These amazing plays went one for another three turns.

It was down to two stripes, one solid and the 8-ball.

Fun Time Lounge had never seen such a game of pool. Jon watched wide-eyed, praying Medulla would win.

Portman took his turn and ended up getting one of his last balls in. Then it was Medulla's turn and his eyes widened in panic.

"What's the matter!?" Jon cried frantically.

"It is impossible for me to get my last ball in on this shot. The angle is 30 degrees off—and it would hit the 8-ball in."

Jon's heart sank. Medulla instead took a shot, but it only grazed his last ball but otherwise accomplished nothing. The cue ball landed perfectly in front of Portman's last stripe ball.

Portman grinned and took the easy shot. After that shot, the cue ball rolled near the 8 ball but was awkwardly juxtapositioned.

"That can't be hit in!" Medulla jumped in the air excitedly, his worry suddenly gone.

"Whatever," Portman shook his head. He aimed his shot so it would strike the outer side of the 8-ball. He called nonetheless, "Top right pocket."

Everyone held their breaths as the 8-ball rolled toward the top right hole, it sunk in there to the boys' initial dismay—all except Medulla. Portman threw up his arms and turned to his group of supporters in triumph.

"You said it couldn't be hit in, man you were wrong…" he began to belittle Medulla but Medulla held up his hand and pointed to the table—where the cue ball followed the 8-ball's path and sunk in after it—making Portman the loser.

"NO! That's bogus!"

"Of course you _could_ have hit it in, but my calculations of the force you hit each ball concluded that the white one would sink in after—and therefore you would lose your victory," Medulla explained—not that Portman was listening, he was throwing a tantrum to his friends.

"Now give us our table back," Lance stood up against Portman. Portman just sneered and scuffled off to bully a table from someone else.

"Actually I need to get heading home," Jon mentioned and turned to leave. He had no other quarters with him and he hadn't won any games. He was tired of pool.

"Aw man, so it was all for nothing?"

"I'll play you," Medulla offered.

"No way man!" Jon heard Lance object as he left the room.


	6. V

When he got home, it was dark out. His mother was in the kitchen at the dining table and quietly eating a plate of spaghetti she had made for dinner.

"Hey, you got my note right?"

His mother jumped a bit and when she saw him he could see her eyes were red.

"Yes. I did. Have a good time over there at the Fun Time Lounge?"

"I lost all the pool games and spent a few days worth of chore money…Mom are you alright?"

She wiped her eyes, "Oh, I'm fine. I was chopping onions for the sauce and the room is filled with onion vapor. You know my eyes are sensitive."

"Where's dad?"

She picked up the near-empty late and dunked it in the sink which was filled with water. "You know he goes bowling Friday nights with his co-workers."

"Oh yeah."

He scooped the mildly warm spaghetti onto a plate and stuck it in the microwave. His mother sat down on the living room easy chair to continue reading a book she had. Jon studied her—she sniffled and rubbed her eye—he wasn't a fool, he knew they had been fighting again. About what though?

Suddenly there was a loud pop and the plug to the microwave procured tiny blue sparks. "Oh man!"

"What happened?"

"The microwave short circuited," he carefully unplugged the cord. His spaghetti was a bit warmer though. He ate it.

"Good grief," his mother replied, "I guess we'll have to get a new one."

Then an idea clicked in his head, "Wait, I have a friend who might be able to fix it."

He finished his dinner and called Medulla, hoping he was back from the Fun Time Lounge.

"Medulla speaking,"

"Do you have Sue's number?"

"Yes. Why?" Jon knew that Medulla only had Sue's number because they were lab partners in science class.

"My microwave just exploded. I was gonna see if she could fix it."

Medulla reluctantly gave Jon Sue Tenny's phone number. Jon hoped it wasn't too late to call her house and tried her number. His palms got sweaty because he had never called a girl before in his life.

After a few rings there was a shuffling sound, "Hello?"

It was a girl's voice, "Sue?"

"Yeah, who is _this_?"

"Um…it's Jon from sidekick class."

"How do you know my number?"

"I got it from Medulla."

He could hear her grumble softly, "What do you want?"

"Well I was wondering…well my microwave malfunctioned…you can do that thing with your power…"

"You want me to fix your microwave?"

"Well I was hoping…"

"Forget that. It's too late, I don't know where you live, and I don't even know _you_," she sounded disgruntled and was about to hang up her end of the line.

"You know I did 100 push ups everyday last summer!" he cried desperately.

There was a pause, and the line wasn't beeping yet so she must have still been there.

"And I know that you can't see without your glasses, and your birthday is in May—you'll be 15."

She sighed, and he was mildly surprised his words worked on her, "Okay fine. Give me your address and I'll swing by tomorrow."

He gave it to her and before he could thank her she hung up on him.

"So the microwave will be fixed tomorrow!" Jon called to his mother.

The next day, Jon woke up and shuffled downstairs in his boxers to eat breakfast. Since he slept in, his mother had already gone in to work, and he was left to his own devices—a bowl and a box of Cheerios. He ran his fingers through his hair, catching a few tangles. _I need a haircut._

He read the back of the box while he slurped on spoonfuls of cereal. He was just putting his bowl in the sink when his doorbell rang. He looked down at himself and yelped, "Be there in five seconds!"

He ran upstairs and threw on whatever clothes were on his floor, and was back in front of his front door within his promised time—having fast reflexes were handy.

He unlocked the door and peered out.

Sue Tenny was standing there and not without her ever-present thoughtful frown. She was wearing her hair up in a pony tail and wore a knitted vest over a pink-flowered shirt. She had a hand on her hip to signal she didn't appreciate being told to wait the five seconds before being let in.

"How's it hanging?"

Sue huffed and brushed past him into his home, looking around "So where is it?"

"What?"

She narrowed her eyes, "The microwave."

He quickly led her into the kitchen and showed her.

"Thanks for doing this," he tried stuffing his hands in his jean pockets but realized to his embarrassment they were on inside-out. So he put his hands behind his back.

"It's no big deal. It's what anyone would ask a girl they knew could repair machinery with their mind. My dad makes me fix things all the time."

"Oh, well, I'll make it up to you…"

"Uh huh," she said with a hint of indifference and turned around; the microwave turned on without her touching it and worked like normal. "There. It's fixed."

"Why are you so…?" He was frustrated at her attitude. She seemed nice on days, and absolutely cold the next.

"What?" she stuck her chin out.

He shook his head, "unfriendly?"

"How would you like it if someone was only being your friend because of your powers?"

"Is that what you think this is about?" He gestured toward the microwave—it went 'ding'. He felt a slight hurt in his chest at her assumption.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the dining table, shrugging one shoulder, "It's not hard to fathom."

He took a seat and she finally noticed his jeans were on inside-out. He noticed her lips briefly turn up in amusement. "Listen Sue, I'm not trying to be your friend because you can fix my microwave. I _want_ to be your friend and that doesn't require a reason."

She looked at the linoleum floor tiles under her feet and sighed, "Your pants are on inside-out."

He frowned, "Thanks, but I already knew that."

"Then why are they on like that?" she raised a brow.

He stood up, "I was eating breakfast in my boxers when you arrived. So unless you wanted me to greet you in my underwear I figured it was best you waited outside until I got some pants on—they just happen to be on wrong."

He noticed a slight blush in her cheeks as she gave a small laugh—overcoming her anger and suspicion about him.

"Anyway, as I said I can make this up to you. How about I go up and put my pants on the right way and then maybe you'll let me buy you a slushy or something?"

His heart started beating form nervousness—he didn't know how she would respond because she was a girl and he never offered to buy a girl a slushy before.

She tilted her head, "Sure."

He was off in an instant to put his pants on properly.

He had a little bit of that week's chore money left, part of it he left in his sock drawer just in case he ended up spending the other part all on losing pool.

"How did you get here?" He asked, while tying his faded Converse shoes.

"I walked."

"You live close?" he looked up surprised.

"I live downtown."

"And you walked?" he stood, face full of disbelief. From his house to downtown was about seven miles.

"I don't have a bike."

"Your dad didn't give you a ride or anything?"

She chuckled derisively, "Yeah because his schedule isn't so busy."

Jon grabbed the keys to his house and went outside, Sue followed.

"Man, that's a long way to walk," he mentioned as he locked the door.

Sue didn't have anything else to say on the matter, "So where are we going?"

"There's a drink stand on the corner of Parsons and 12th Street, it's maybe four blocks that direction," he pointed down the street of houses.

They ambled along the curbsides in silence, for the most part.

"So if you thought I was a jerk, why did you walk such a long way to help me?"

He could see her shoulders tense, thinking of her answer carefully.

"In all honesty, I wanted to get out of my house," she seemed to let her words out in a breath.

He didn't understand her, but maybe if they were going to be 'friends' he would eventually. She walked across the curb edge like she was on a balance beam, with her arms out and her concentration forward.

The passed in front of Josie's house and he stared at it, to see if Josie could be seen anywhere inside. The windows to her living room were big, but the lights were off, so she was probably out with her friends.

"Why did you stop?" Sue poked Jon's arm, and pretty hard.

He jumped a bit, confused and looked back to Josie's house. He held his arm.

"Who lives here?" she tried another question, seeing he was spaced out.

"Uh…Josie. Josie Del Marco."

"Who?"

"She's in our grade. She can fly."

"Oh she's that one _hero_."

He didn't like Sue's condescending tone about Josie so he started walking again.

"Do you wish you were a hero?"

He shrugged with indifference, but inside he did. Desperately.

They arrived at the drink stand and Sue wanted a raspberry flavored slushy. He bought hers and then got an orange flavored one for himself. They sat on a street bench and sipped their straws in more silence.

"So when did you know you had powers?" he asked.

She was in the middle of slurping the last of her slushy, as it made a wet, ragged sound. She licked her red-tinted lips and thought about it. "I guess it was when I was a child. I hated being left alone in the dark and so after my dad tucked me in, I would try to stay awake in case any nightmares tried to eat me. I would dose off when the lights came back on, but I didn't know it was me who was turning them on again. In the morning my dad would come in to wake me up and the lights would be on. This happened for months until my dad left and then snuck back in to observe. That's how I found out—but over the years and series of challenges brought on by him is how I found out I can control any aspect of technology with my mind."

"Gee, all I did was dodge a bunch of snowballs in the 7th grade."

"If it isn't the geek squad!" they heard a distinct voice behind them.

"Get lost Tom," Jon rolled his eyes and turned his head to see Boomer standing behind them with his own slushy.

"Hey is this one of your four girlfriends?" Boomer pointed at Sue with a laugh.

"No," Jon stood up and tossed his empty slushy cup in the trash.

"You're annoying," Sue glared at him before she threw her empty cup at Boomer's head—it bounced off the side and landed in the trashcan.

"Nice shot," Jon nodded.

"Thanks."

"That was a mistake," Boomer grumbled and sucker punched Jon.

"Why are you picking on him? _I _threw it at you," Sue kicked Boomer in his leg.

"I don't hit girls and you losers better watch your backs," was all Boomer had to say before leaving them alone and wiping raspberry slush off the side of his face.

"You okay?" she nodded at Jon who was bent over holding his stomach.

"Fine," he lied with a gasp and straightened up.

"Well I should probably get a head start on walking back to my house. Thanks for the slushy."

He didn't want her to go. He enjoyed her company and disliked the thought of her walking downtown by herself. Maybe if they hung out just a little bit longer he would understand her better.

"Wait!"

She tilted her head and stopped walking away.

"We could hang out a little bit more and then my dad could give you a ride back into town when he gets home."

She weighed the option, "When is that?"

"Well about four o' clock,"

Sue grabbed Jon's wrist and looked at the time on his watch, "So you want to hang out with me for another four hours?" she sounded incredulous, and then raised a brow. "So do you have a thing for me or are you just pathetically lonely?"

He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, "Neither." _I want to understand you_.

She pressed her lips but a glint of humor could be seen in her eyes. She liked to mess with him, and make his cheeks go red. He straightened up and eyed her, silently challenging her to mess with him again—he would be ready for it.

"I guess that's okay then."

He broke into a big smile and nodded.

They made their way back to his house. Sue continued to walk on the curbside like she was a gymnast on a balance beam. He wondered why she did that.

"Were you ever in gymnastics?"

She wobbled a little off-balance before hopping off the curb, "No. I just started doing it by habit after watching the summer Olympics three years ago."

He chuckled at her quirk.

She frowned and seemed to bit the inside of her cheek in annoyance "Sorry, it's just kind of cute."

He noticed a slight red appear in her cheeks and continued to grin.

She then raised one of her eyebrows and crossed her arms, figuring he was messing with her, "_Cute_?"

He sighed, hoping she hadn't gotten upset again "Sorry…"

"Whatever," she cut him off and did not continue walking like she was on a balance beam.

They arrived back at Jon's home. Nothing was on television in the afternoon except soap operas so Jon and Sue awkwardly sat in the living room staring at everything but each other.

"Soooo…" he spoke just to say anything.

"Yeah…" Sue chimed in, and adjusted her glasses.

"Want anything to eat?"

"What do you have?"

"I could make a ham sandwich."

She shrugged, "Sure, thanks."

He quickly went into the kitchen and whipped up a simple ham sandwich and brought it back to her on a small plate.

"Last night I went to the Fun Time Lounge with Medulla and Lance—we played pool. Medulla is unnaturally good at the game. Jason Portman stole the table we were playing at and Medulla challenged him and won, so we got it back."

Sue sort of gawked at Jon, taking his stream of words in, "How did a _hero_ feel about losing to a _sidekick_?"

She always seemed to be very concerned about the status lines between heroes and sidekicks. She continued to eat the sandwich.

"He didn't like it, but since there were a lot of regular people there he didn't start anything and just bullied a pool table from his next victim."

"Medulla's smart isn't he?"

"Yeah man, he's a genius."

She seemed to consider his words as she finished the ham sandwich. He offered her a glass of water to wash it down to which she accepted.

"Have you ever been to the Fun Time Lounge?"

Again, she had an odd sort of expression on her face, "I don't get out much."

_So that's a no?_

He had to wonder what her home life was like. He couldn't just ask her—it was rude and like she said, they hardly knew each other for him to be asking such personal questions.

"Want to swing over there and play the arcade?"

She considered her options, yet again. She had a way of looking when she did that, with her eyes narrowed, and looking off into nowhere—perhaps withdrawn into herself, weighing the possibilities.

"Why not?" she finally spoke to Jon's relief.

He only had two dollars worth of chore money left, which would buy them a couple games of pinball or rounds of space invaders. He couldn't wait until he was old enough to get a job and earn some _real_ money.

Since the Fun Time Lounge was further away than the drink stand, Jon let Sue sit on the seat of his bike while he pedaled and held himself up the whole way there. His calves were aching by the time they reached the building. Sue hopped off his bike and he set it against the outer wall with all the others that were there.

The Lounge had a good amount of kids in it for a Saturday afternoon, but it wasn't as crazy as the previous night. The arcade was impressive as far as choices of games went. Jon's favorite game was the _Space Invaders_, followed by the air hockey table, and then _Asteroids_. He liked pinball too, there was a sea monster themed one that gave the best score bonuses and he always played on that.

Luckily, the sea monster pinball game was open. Before he could kneel down and slip his quarters into the slot, Sue grabbed his hand to stop him. He looked at her funny.

"Don't waste your money," she spoke quickly and stepped back from the machine, seeming to study it. Jon was worried someone might come along and take it before them but no one did. _What is she doing?_

Finally she stepped up to the pinball table and pulled back the ball launcher. A ball flew up the table and around the noisy bumpers.

"Where did the ball come from? I didn't pay!" he asked with wide eyes.

"Shh!" she frowned as she hit the flipper buttons, "I figured out where the release was inside the machine. A quarter would usually go in and push back a knob that would release the ball—but I just pushed it back with my mind so we're playing on phantom quarters."

Jon continued to stare in bewilderment, _and she's a sidekick?_ She saw him stare and only gave him a sly smile. She played for a few minutes and scored 1500 points. When it was his turn she did the same trick to the pinball table and he played for free—his ending score was 2050. He finally won at something! Sue wasn't fazed; she merely shoved him aside and started another game, "First to 10,000 points wins."

Sue's scores were always shy of Jon's, Jon was just better at pinball since he had more practice. Sue huffed and didn't step up to play her next turn, instead she stayed where she was, and suddenly the pinball table was playing but no one was touching the buttons. He looked at Sue, who stood there with a concentrated look on her face—sending the flippers up and down to keep the ball from going in the hole. She was playing with her mind!

She sighed as the ball went in the hole.

"Why didn't you just make the ball go out of the hole?" he wondered.

"I control _technology_. The ball is only a metal object within the case so I can't do anything to manipulate it. However, the wiring, the electronic aspect is something I do have a hand in."

"Well you made it to 9,000 points, good job."

She nodded but knew Jon was only 500 away from the 10,000. Once he was at the table, she took control of the flippers so they never could catch the ball, making Jon only score 100 points. He whirled around with a glare, "You're cheating!"

"Hey, I'm the one letting you save your money—stop complaining."

She, again, controlled the pinball table from where she stood and managed to get the 10,000 points to win. Jon shrugged—the fun was sort of vacuumed out of pinball since she won.

He looked over to the _Space_ _Invaders_ arcade game but it was still occupied. It was one of the most popular games in the arcade. Sue saw his dejected look and with a flick of her eyes in the direction of the game, something happened.

"Aw! What the hell!? I was on the 4th level!" the current occupant slammed his hands down on the joystick in frustration as the character made sad dying electronic sounds. He stalked off grumbling something about '_running out of quarters'_.

Jon immediately took the empty space and started to feed the machine his quarters but again, Sue stopped him. "This one's on me."

He gave her a grateful smile and then focused on beating the aliens. Sue stood back and watched, silently weaving her powers through the machine to guarantee Jon a place in the next level, and the next, and yet the next. Deep within the microchips that programmed the random math of the enemy characters, she caused them to slack and become easier targets. Susanna Tenny had never had such a fun afternoon in her life and she owed it all to Jonathan Boy.


	7. VI

Autumn swept through Maxville with a colorful flare. Every tree on the block was either a blazing red, golden yellow, or intense orange by October. There were brown ones too, but they weren't as pretty. Jonathan enjoyed stepping on them and hearing the '_crunch'_ under his foot. He was waiting at the bus stop as usual, and breathed in the chilly air in wait.

Boomer and Josie joined him, yawning, and with sleepy eyes.

"You guys look tired."

"Yeah, I didn't sleep," Josie rubbed her eye.

"Neither did I, man," Boomer added.

Jon raised a brow, wondering why they didn't get a good night's sleep the night before. They didn't offer a further explanation and Jon knew they wouldn't, even if he asked. They were done talking to him for now as they continued to stretch and fall asleep while standing only to bob their heads up in sudden consciousness. When the bus arrived, he took a seat next to Sue.

He saw Boomer immediately conk out against the window, while Josie collapsed on Lynda who was already passed out.

"What's the matter?" Sue asked, looking to where he was.

"They didn't get any sleep."

"_Okay_," Sue said, unimpressed and faced forward.

"It's weird though."

"How?"

"They're _all_ sleepy."

"They're all _heroes_," Sue emphasized the last word in a disapproving tone.

Jon sighed, not knowing why she carried a dislike for _every_ hero at school. The only one he found she tolerated was Lance.

When they arrived at Sky High, he noticed most of the heroes were sleepy. _Did they smoke weed all weekend?_ Jon wondered with alarm, _OR what if this is the work of a super villain?! He's weakening the future heroes!_

This thought propelled him to react in a timely manner, to do something bold; he approached Stronghold, who was leaning against a stair rail, seeming to nod off. "Hey why did no one get any sleep this weekend?"

"Huh!?" Stronghold jumped, knocking his elbow against the rail and cracking the iron. Jon winced and Stronghold noticed him, "Oh, JimBob…"

"Uh, my name is actually Jon…"

"Whatever. I didn't get any sleep because every time I closed my eyes, I had the most horrible nightmares, even if it was for a few seconds. I don't have them _now _though; it was only this weekend.

_Maybe they were smoking __**bad**__ weed all weekend_, Jon thought. _And it caused hallucinations?_

He didn't know for sure, since he had never tried weed. He didn't even know how to obtain it let alone smoke. He only knew a lot of kids used it. _Maybe I'm confusing weed with acid…_

It was very shady to Jon—the way they all looked about to fall asleep.

He found Medulla and Lance nearby also waiting for the bell to ring. Lance was having a turn Medulla's colorful puzzle cube. He looked at it blankly.

"Are you tired too?" Jon asked, seeing the same exhaustion in Lance.

"Yeah, kept having nightmares that I'd get sucked into outer space and wouldn't be able to turn on the gravity."

"Stronghold mentioned something about nightmares too."

Lance shrugged, unconcerned. He gave up with the puzzle and handed it back to Medulla but not without a tremendous yawn.

"I think it's bogus _all_ the hero class is dead tired," Jon stated.

"Perhaps there is a reason?" Medulla looked like he was about to hypothesize.

Jon tilted his head, waiting for a theory to emerge from the super genius.

Medulla's shoulders slumped, "I'll need to do research and gather evidence to make a sound educated guess."

"When did you start having the nightmares?" Jon asked Lance. Lance was nodding off so Jon shook his shoulder.

"Huh? Oh…when I went to sleep Friday night after playing pool," Lance mumbled and closed his eyes. He stood upright for a moment before falling over and floating above the floor, suspended in his anti-gravity powers.

_It's all so strange_, Jon thought. The first bell rang. Lance woke up, Jon and Medulla said they'd see him at lunch and then headed to Mr. Bitters's classroom.

He noticed his fellow sidekicks were all awake, and most were attentive. Mr. Bitters launched a pop quiz on them first thing. The class grumbled.

The pop quiz was over the _Sidekick Code_ a clause they had learned that was established by the Coalition of P.O.W.E.R.

P.O.W.E.R. was an acronym for _People of Worldly Enigmatic Responses._ Most kids with powers knew of the Coalition, but for he last few weeks they were further enlightened. The Coalition consisted of Superheroes from different countries and they set the rules that governed over the super-people. Jon already knew a few of the clauses, the most important one, the _Identity Code_ stated that

'_A person of supernatural ability shall not disclose their power to non-powered humans of a non-powered lineage unless under an alias or if they are immediate family or will be part of the immediate family.'_

Jon had read the _Sidekick Clause_ in his social studies book. He didn't think it was a fair clause.

'_Each and every sidekick will remain loyal to their hero until honorably discharged from that service. Sidekicks shall listen to and trust their partners and offer any assistance required. Failure to comply shall result in a dishonorable discharge and a swift registration in the Coalition's Book of Renegades._

The _Sidekick Code _ was passed in 1940 during the second World War but it still held firm to the Coalition of P.O.W.E.R. He answered Mr. Bitters's questions and passed his paper to the front. He tapped his pencil on his desk in wait for everyone else to finish, and he couldn't help but to wonder why all the heroes had nightmares.

Jon brought his lunch that day. His mother had made him a ham sandwich and a thermos of tomato soup. He looked around the cafeteria and noticed there were hardly any heroes at lunch.

"Where's Lance?" Jon asked when Medulla joined him at the table.

"Sleeping. I think all the heroes are using their lunch hour to sleep. They're pretty much taking up every bench and corner in the school," Medulla stated while scooping up a spoonful of peas.

"Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

Medulla ate his peas and then considered Jon's question, "Yes."

Jon ripped off the corner of his sandwich, "Well, shouldn't we do something?"

He felt something strange was going on, and his powers urged him to react.

"Why? There's no harm in them sleeping."

Sue ended up joining their table that day. Dave, of course was with her.

"Heh heh heh, looks like the heroes are have been having _unsweeted_ dreams," Dave chuckled.

"Was that even supposed to be a joke?" Medulla raised a brow.

Dave's smile dropped and he mumbled, "Maybe."

"Leave him alone. He can't help himself," Sue chided.

Jon noticed Medulla blush.

"Hey guys," Phil Rodriguez joined them as well, taking a seat next to Sue. Sue took an extra scoot away to give the portly boy all the room he needed. He didn't have a lunch tray or a brown bag.

"I'm hungry. What should I eat today?" he asked them.

"Pork chops," Jon threw out a cuisine.

"Mac n' cheese," Medulla added.

"Hmm, sounds good," he licked his lips and squinted. A plate of pork chops with a side of macaroni and cheese appeared in front of him and he started gobbling them down. Sue made a disgusted face, picked up her tray and relocated herself next to Jon.

"Rodriguez, you're a pig!" Medulla laughed.

"You _hog_ your ability all to yourself! Heh heh heh!" Dave added.

They all looked at him pathetically and he stopped laughing at his bad joke.

"I think something bogus is going on with the heroes. They _all_ had nightmares all weekend and that's why they're sleeping now," Jon brought the issue to the table again.

"So what if there is?" Sue snapped, "Why do _you_ even care?"

_I care about Josie_, Jon thought immediately but shook his head, "Isn't that why we're here? To detect suspicious happenings and be of aid to the heroes?"

Sue shook her head, "_You're_ here for that, Jon."

He wondered what she meant by that snide tone.

Phil had just finished his pork chops and conjured a pudding parfait for dessert.

Sue gave him yet another grossed-out glare and picked up her tray, "I'm going to sit with the twins. They aren't disgusting."

_Does she mean Rodriguez or me?_ Jon wondered, because she looked straight at him when she said it.

They watched her join Emmy and Pearl Cutlass, two sidekicks in Phil's grade whose tears were precious stones. Emmy cried emeralds and Pearl cried pearls, so it wasn't strange to see people like Boomer and Portman giving them grief only to try and steal the precious stones that fell from their eyes. They were strong girls though, and it was tough to make them cry. They had a pretty cool power but since they were unable to use it as offence or defense in a fight, Split had assigned them to be sidekicks.

Before the end of lunch, Jon searched the halls for any sign of Lance—he wanted to ask a few more questions about the nightmares. Lance was floating in a corner, wrapped up in his anti-gravitational power, fast asleep.

"Lance!" Jon nudged him with his foot. "Lance!"

Lance opened his eyes sleepily, they were getting pretty red. "Maaaaan, why did you wake me up?"

"When was the last time you were in the same place with all the heroes?"

Lance blinked a couple of times, "Uh…there was a hero-only assembly Friday after lunch. The principal was briefing us on the Coalition's stance with the Russian heroes. It was like, a practice briefing to get us prepared for after we graduate—which I thought was dumb since we have three more years…"

"Thanks man!" Jon was suddenly off down the hall. _That_ was an interesting piece of information, and perhaps a clue.

Jon walked into the gymnasium on his way to suit out last period but had to stop and stare at the entire hero class sleeping on the bleachers. His fellow sidekicks stood in a group, in their normal clothes.

"Where's Coach Split?" Jon asked as he approached.

"You could say he _split_. Heh heh heh!" Dave laughed.

"He _left_?"

"He's coming back…I think. The heroes were all sleeping and he started yelling at them. When they ignored him he got really angry, split into O and D and marched off in opposite directions." Phil added.

Jon glanced at the bleachers. He spotted Josie and Lynda leaning on each other for stability as they slept. Boomer was sprawled out, taking up three sitting spaces. Stronghold was in snooze-land, as was Portman nearby. Shaun Wilson, student body president, was sleeping as he sat upright while Lightfoot's head was in his lap. He even saw Baron Battle fast asleep at the top corner of the bleachers.

The doors swung open suddenly, in marched the Splits with Vice Principal Cardiano and nurse Spex. Nurse Spex was a kooky-looking lady with graying hair and small spectacles.

"They all useless!" one of the Splits raged and waved his arm in the heroes' general direction.

"Stand back kids!" Cardiano commanded while the nurse stepped forward and did a mega x-ray vision scan over the sleeping bodies. Jon felt his stomach squirm at seeing everyone's skeletons.

"There's nothing wrong with their bones," Spex said with a smile before walking up to Lynda and Josie. She took a seat next to Lynda and held her hand, "Dearie wake up."

Lynda opened one eye drearily, "Huh?"

"How much sleep did you get Dearie?"

"None."

Spex turned and gave a suspecting look to Cardiano. Lynda's head drooped back onto Josie's shoulder.

"They're all dead tired. Looks like that won't make for an active physical education Mr. Split," Spex nodded at the coach.

He reformed into one body and gave an annoyed huff.

"He even blew his whistle at them and they hardly woke up," Phil whispered to Jon. That was impressive since Split was a loud whistle-blower.

"Okay, we'll let them sleep for now. All the rest of you, Phys-ed is cancelled!" Cardiano made the call.

There were some happy shouts from the sidekicks. They left the gymnasium to go do whatever for the last hour of school. Jon stared at the heroes. _Would he have cancelled class if all the sidekicks were asleep?_ He had to say it was unlikely. He took a seat next to the sleeping Josie Del Marco and looked her over. She was so pretty and this was the closest he had ever been to her. If only he had a better power! Then he could be in the hero class and maybe even sit next to her and have conversations with her.

"Jon!" he jumped and averted his stare to the gymnasium entryway.

Medulla, Phil, and Dave were watching him.

"_What?_" Jon asked a little defensive.

"We just noticed you weren't out there. What are you _doing_?" Medulla inquired with a sly grin.

"Nothing…" he replied under his breath, got up and walked to join them.

They sat around the flagpole on the grass, waiting for the busses to arrive.

"So…has anyone ever seen Principal Stryker?"

"Word is you _don_'_t_ ever want to get in trouble with the principal here," Dave mentioned and stopped to think, "I might say he's…"

"Shut it!" Medulla interrupted him before he could utter a bad joke.

"Why?" Jon frowned.

"Well, once you get sent to his office, you don't ever go back to it. He sets you straight." Phil added and produced a chocolate cupcake out of thin air and ate it.

"How do you know?"

"Well," Phil paused his consumption and had a chocolate frosting mustache, "I just know that anyone I've known to go there has _never_ had to go back."

"What do you know about the Russian heroes?" Jon asked.

None of them seemed to know. The United States and Russia were not on the best terms politically and that was all any of them seemed to know.

"What do Russian heroes have to do with _anything_?" Medulla asked.

"I don't know—just curious," Jon shrugged.

They sat around and discussed girls the rest of the time. Jon remained quiet, not wanting to give away he was in love with Josie.

"Juliana Peace is a fox," Phil admitted.

"So is Cassie Lightfoot," Dave added.

"You can't dig on Cassie! She's Shaun Wilson's girlfriend. He would so pound you into the ground if he heard you," Phil was shocked.

Dave just frowned, "I'd just _dig_ until I was out of the ground. Heh!"

Everyone sighed at Dave's lame play on words.

The busses started to arrive and the heroes still weren't awake. Jon took a seat in the middle of the bus. His friends rode different busses. It wasn't long before Sue got on board and sat in the seat across from him. Since the heroes weren't on the bus there was room for everyone to have a seat to themselves. "So, they're leaving the heroes here overnight so they can sleep. They cancelled all the homework due tomorrow too," she said, stretching out her legs across the seat.

He stared at her canvas sneakers while he knew that he should have been happy at the news of no homework but he hated to leave Josie behind even though she was not his responsibility. "Are their parents okay with that?"

Sue shrugged, not really caring about the matter. She was very cold concerning anything to do with the heroes and Jon wondered why.

"What do you know about Russian Heroes?" he asked her the question all his other friends couldn't answer.

She straightened up, almost on her guard, "What do you think _I_ would know?"

He could sense she was hiding something, but just couldn't pry her, "Never mind."


	8. VII

The bus lowered into his neighborhood and he mumbled a good bye to Sue out of courtesy, not that she replied—just gave him a suspicious look as he walked down the aisle to the exit.

Before he went to his house though, he took a deep breath and walked up to the Del Marco's front door. He needed to let them know why Josie wasn't coming home that night. He let the door knocker fall and hit the door with a loud '_thump_'.

Mrs. Del Marco opened the door and stared at him with puzzlement before asking, "Yes?"

"Mrs. Del Marco, I was just going to let you know—," he said, and still with a quiver in his voice as Mrs. Del Marco looked like a grown up version of Josie—absolutely stunning.

"Oh, you're Elizabeth's boy…Jimmy!" She finally smiled, recognizing him.

"Actually, ma'am, I'm Jon. _Jonathan_," he corrected her and she shook her head at her forgetfulness with a laugh. "I was saying Josie and a lot of her friends aren't coming home tonight because they are at the school sleeping."

"Yes, I'm aware. I just got off the phone with the vice principal. Thanks for letting me know though, Jonathan, it was really sweet of you!" Then to his surprise, Mrs. Del Marco leaned over a kissed him on his cheek. She bid him farewell and closed the door as he still stood there dumbstruck.

_She kissed me! Well, on my cheek…_ he touched the side of his face. _Does that mean she likes me?_ He shuffled back to his own house and watched a new '_ABC After School special_' about a shy awkward girl that didn't make friends easily but then everyone wanted to be her friend after they found out her dad was a movie star. It was mildly interesting and he couldn't help but to be reminded of Sue whenever he saw the girl on screen.

He made an attempt to do the homework he had been given even though it wasn't due. Again he wondered that if all the sidekicks were asleep, would they have cancelled homework being due as well?

His dad came home as per usual at five o 'clock and his mother did too. She kissed Jon on his cheek as per usual and asked how his day went.

"All the heroes fell asleep. Mom, what do you know about Russian heroes?"

He could see her tense a little, just like Sue had. His mom was still an active sidekick though, so she had to know what the Coalition knew—at least somewhat. She let a breath out and to his surprise disclosed the information he had been seeking…sort of.

"Son, the Kremlin is keeping their heroes in a silent lock down right now, and the Coalition can't reach them to negotiate a non-aggression pact."

"What's a non-aggression pact?"

"It's an agreement that the Coalition offers between opposing countries stating that they won't fight on behalf of their country's political qualms if the opposition does the same."

"So heroes are neutral during wars?"

"There are always renegades, but for the most part they try to be. During World War II though, there were many hero clashes between the axis and allies. Vietnam was left completely to the armed forces and you saw how bad that turned out with our non-aggression pact."

Jon wondered if Stryker really did release that information to the heroes last Friday, but Lance even said he didn't understand the point of it, then again Lance didn't pay the best of attention to things. "Thanks mom."

"Now, you said all the heroes fell asleep?"

"It was fishy mom, they were so sleepy. Phys-ed was cancelled! They were so sleepy that they were left at school sleeping!"

His mother gave him an alarmed reaction, "I might have to have a word with that principal of yours."

His mother was the most eloquent, fast, and convincing talker he knew but he failed to understand why she would have to talk to _the principal_.

She began to start dinner, corn on the cob and a ham. Jon was getting a little tired of eating ham. His dad was already getting into the evening paper, as per usual.

The doorbell rang all of a sudden, making Jon and his dad jump a bit. Jon went to answer it. A man in a nice suit stood on the doorstep. He had combed blonde hair and wore glasses; his hands were in his pockets.

"Hiya kiddo, is Lizzie home?" he asked. Jon realized then, who the man was.

"Hello Raymond," his father appeared from behind and regarded the man with a frown.

"William," the man tipped his head.

His mother hurried out of the kitchen to the living room, with a big smile, "Ray! So glad you accepted my invitation!"

The man stepped past Jon and entered the living room, "Thank you for inviting me."

Jon and his dad exchanged confused looks and then his dad used his stern voice of questioning, "Lizzie?"

His mother rolled her eyes as she offered Ray a seat on the couch, "Its okay Bill, I invited Ray over for supper tonight."

Jon noticed his dad grumble under his breath as he took a seat to resume his paper-reading.

Raymond Leapers was _the Vault_, his mother's partner-in-crime. Ray and his mom were partnered after they graduated _Super Hero High_, and they made quite a good team—hence they were still active seventeen years later.

Ray sat on the sofa next to Jon, and his dad made no effort to converse. Suddenly the newspaper was the most important thing in the room to his dad.

"So how have you been, kiddo?" Ray turned to Jon.

"Er…" Jon was at a loss because he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Ray.

His dad folded the top of the newspaper down with his fingers to reveal his face, "Hey Leapers, how's business going?"

If Jon remembered correctly, Ray's cover involved a men's apparel salesman at one of the department stores downtown.

"Going pretty well actually. If you need a new suit, William, we're having a sale. All suits are 15% off."

"I have all the suits I need, Raymond. Thanks." His dad smirked, flipped the top part of the paper back into place.

Jon observed how they regarded each other and it was with a definite enmity, though as subtle as they could get away with it.

"So I hear you're a sidekick," Ray once again turned his attention to Jon.

"Yeah."

"Is there anyone you think you might want to be partnered with once you graduate, I know it's a little soon to be—,"

"Josie," Jon didn't know what had possessed him to blurt her name.

"What does she do?"

"She flies."

"That's neato," Ray agreed.

"What do you know about Russian Heroes?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard, and Jon saw his dad grin at Ray's apparent uneasiness.

"They're a potential threat but we can't be sure until they contact us. Right now they're in a vow of silence."

It was basically the same answer his mother gave him, but he had to wonder if it was because that was really all working heroes knew or was it all a contrived answer in case anyone asked? If the Cold War was teaching Jon anything, it was to be apprehensive of answers.

The rest of the time before dinner was spent with his father's nose in the newspaper, Ray trying to get a conversation going by asking Jon questions, and Jon answering quick so that he might have time to think about more important things—like the heroes' mysterious nightmares.

"Dinner is ready!" his mother's voice sent all of the men out of their reclusive shells and into the dining room.

"Smells great Lizzie," Ray smiled as he took a seat.

Jon saw his father's brow furrow deeply.

They sat down and started filling their plates. Jon buttered his corn on the cob as best as he could. In truth, corn on the cob was delicious but it was always a pain to eat because then all the little bits got stuck in his teeth. He took the smallest slab of ham as possible since he had already eaten it at lunch.

"How is everything?" his mother asked in attempt to fill the painful silence.

"Delicious," Ray responded immediately.

"I'm tired of ham," Jon admitted.

"Don't be picky son, there are starving children in China," his dad mentioned. Jon rolled his eyes since he had been told that line since he was a child whenever he would complain about the food. "It_ is_ delicious, sweetheart," his father added, answering her question.

"Fine tomorrow you can buy a hot lunch from the cafeteria," his mother stuck out her chin and addressed him. He felt a little ashamed for not complimenting her cooking, because it did taste good—he just was so sick of eating ham!

There weren't any engaging conversations the rest of supper, for the most part his mother would pipe up with a generic question but it would quickly be answered by one or all of the three males at the table, leaving her to think of something else to ask.

Jon started clearing the dishes away when they were done eating.

"Thank you for supper, Lizzie, but I best be getting home now," Ray stood and rubbed his stomach in the gesture of having just finished a yummy meal. He nodded his head cordially at Jon's dad, "William."

"Goodbye Raymond," his dad said curtly and returned to finish reading his paper.

His mother saw Ray to the door. Jon put all the dishes into the left side of the sink and started running water to wash them as it was one of his chores.

He heard the door shut and then a paralyzing silence from the living room until his mother icily said, "Way to be a hospitable host, Bill."

The newspaper crinkled, "I'm sorry, Lizzie but I did not invite the Faulty Vault over for dinner and as a matter of fact I don't know what compelled you to either."

Jon pumped the dish soap into the sink so it started bubbling with small white clean suds, it oozed over the dirty dishes and he would have just liked to concentrate on that instead of what was being said in the other room.

"He's an old friend! Bill, he has no family since he's doing hero work. I just thought it'd be nice for him to have the company…which you were miserable at being. It wouldn't have killed you to converse with him!"

Now it was to shouting. Jon grabbed the dishrag and started scrubbing pieces of corn and ham juice away from the plates. _Tell them to stop it, tell them they don't have to shout at each other._

But he couldn't bring himself to leave the sink.

"He's a washed-up hero. You are constantly being called away to be a sidekick for him and there are hardly any crimes being reported in the paper, so why is he calling you away so often?"

"What are you implying?!"

"You tell me Lizzie!"

She threw an incoherent scream at him, and then Jon heard her run upstairs.

His dad mumbled, grumbled, and sighed but the paper crinkled again and he must have been back to reading it. Jon noticed his hands had been submerged in the sink water for the last couple of minutes, squeezing the dishrag. He brought his hands out and looked at his fingertips—they had started to prune. He wondered if his parents even remembered that he was just in the next room?

_If I'm too cowardly to step in and help my parents, then how am I supposed to help other people?_


	9. VIII

The next day at school, the heroes were awake despite being grumpy about being in the same clothes as the day before and not having a chance to eat breakfast either.

Jon, Lance, Phil and Medulla were hanging out in front of the flagpole that morning.

"Nightmare-free dreaming is awesome!" Lance declared upon seeing them. He looked well-rested.

"Good for that," Medulla nodded and then turned to Jon, "I could find no evidence that pointed to the reason of yesterday's occurrence."

Jon shook his head back and forth, still in bafflement at it.

"Hey buddy, can I get two pieces of toast with jam?" Lance asked to Phil after hearing his stomach grumble.

"What kind of jam?"

"Surprise me, man," Lance held out his hand.

Phil held out his chubby wrist and in Lance's hand appeared his ordered breakfast. Lance shoved a whole piece in his mouth.

"Stavewwy!" he smiled.

"Say what?"

"Strawewwy!"

"I think he's saying the jam is '_strawberry'_," Jon deciphered the quickest.

"Yup, that it is," Phil smiled.

Jon turned his head over his shoulder to take a glance at what was going on as he heard noises—or more like shouting noises.

Stronghold and Battle were at it again.

"No way, Battle. Just because you had a stupid nightmare that I crushed your skull in doesn't mean I'm actually going to _do _it. Jeez, you are the biggest moron I've ever met!"

"There's a reason we have dreams, Stronghold. I say you're plotting to do it someday soon."

"Yeah, yeah you're right. I will crush your skull in if you don't back the hell off!"

Fireballs ignited into Baron's palms and Stronghold stood ready to face him.

Before any of them could fight, Juliana grabbed Baron from behind, her hands placed firmly on either side of his head, and her eyes were closed.

The fireballs dissipated and Baron's arms fell slack against his sides, his perpetual angry glare melted to a blank gaze.

"Calm. The hell. _down_," Juliana demanded in a stern tone, not angry but firmly.

When she let go, Baron sucked in a breath and turned to face her. He considered her for a moment and then walked off, very mellow.

"Woah man, she just mind-soothed the hell outta him," Phil pointed and chuckled.

They were glad Dave wasn't around to turn that into a bad joke.

"It was probably a good thing," Jon noted, seeing if she hadn't, then the two boys would be causing destruction.

The day went by normally. Bitters talked of their futures with only a _slight_ hint of disdain towards heroes.

"Can anyone tell me from this weekends' readings how many types of villains there are?"

Jon raised his hand.

"Tell me Boy," Bitters took a sip of his coffee and readied his piece of chalk to write on the board.

"Four."

"Can anyone name them?"

"Greed-mongers, power-mongers, the heretics, and…" Jon listed off, but lagged in remembering the final one.

"The punishers," Sue said without even raising her hand.

"Medulla, explain a power monger type villain," Bitters volunteered him.

Medulla cleared his throat, "A person that acts amorally and with recklessness to seek the highest authoritative power over _everyone _or a government. There are many who try but barely any succeed."

"Someone explain a greed monger type villain."

A girl in their sidekick class named Yolanda raised her hand, "The kind of villain only acts amorally in great lengths to gain an exorbitant amount of wealth and assets to make them feel secure. Common examples are bank robbers, and crooked CEOs."

"What about a heretic? Anyone?"

"A person that will act amorally and illogically to spread their belief or cause to others. This includes trickery and force," Jon answered.

"Boy, let someone else have a go at the questions. I get it. You read the assignment," Bitters held up his hand for Jon to cease answering. Jon felt a little embarrassed for being called out as an overachiever.

"So, what qualifies a villain as a punisher?"

Bitters looked around the room since Jon wasn't allowed to answer anymore and there were no volunteers. "Sue?"

Sue was holding her head in her hand with her elbow propped up on the desktop—looking bored. She lifted her head slightly, which caused the end of her long hair to slide away from her arm and end its draping manner. She adjusted her glasses, "Punishers act immorally due to need of revenge. They feel alone and misunderstood and wish for all others to either share the feeling or feel."

"Very good, Miss Tenny," Bitters wrote the key words on the board.

Bitters turned around once more, "What is the most common type of villain in America?"

No one volunteered an answer so Bitters called on a boy in their class who was a space heater, "Jimmy?"

"Greed mongers?"

"Correct!"

Jimmy sighed in relief, obviously he did not do the readings and it was only from a lucky guess he was off the hook.

Jon raised his hand, suddenly curious, "Mr. Bitters, even though the readings say that greed mongers are the most common _villains;_ it didn't say what the most common type of _super_ villains were. So what is the most common type of villains that have powers?"

Bitters took another sip off his coffee, "Well I'd have to say the most common type of _super_ villain would have to be the punishers," he set his coffee on his desk and started walking around the room while further enlightening them, "Not all kids with superpowers get the privilege to go to an institution that teaches them how to use their powers, or provides peers for them to relate to. So certain kids with powers get horribly bullied and insulted because they are different and grow into a punisher to wreck their emotional problems onto people."

"Even in an institution like this, don't you feel that certain kids with powers could even still be in danger of becoming a villain?"

Jon was shocked Sue had even asked such a question—and with such nonchalance! How could anyone at Sky High become a super villain? They were specifically being taught _not _to!

Bitters narrowed his eyes at Sue, just a little bit suspicious, and approached her desk, "Why, do you feel that someone is heading down such a path?"

Sue's eyes grew wide and she looked at the ground, "No. It was hypothetical."

He rubbed his stubbly chin and returned to the front of the room, starting to lecture about the rest of the assignment readings.

During class break, Jon followed Sue out into the hall. She got a drink from the water fountain and then noticed he was waiting to talk to her, "Can I help you?"

"What made you ask that?"

"What?"

"You asked if any Sky High students were in danger of becoming villains…why'd you ask that?"

"Jon, you read too much into things. I said it was hypothetical, didn't you hear?"

Jon did hear—he just couldn't shake the memory of the tone in her voice. He stared at her, still trying to understand her.

She sighed, "Well, perhaps with the current sidekick-hero system it isn't so hard to believe that a student might take their placement the wrong way, snap, and turn to a villain path."

She frowned and looked away, while crossing her arms.

Jon shook his head, "They don't put us into a sidekick position to hurt our feelings, it's because they know we couldn't hold our own in a fight against real villains with stronger powers. We're an enhancement, but not our own powerhouse—I'm glad to be a sidekick because I know I'd be crushed if I had to face a bad guy on my power alone."

Sue shook her head, her face twisted into disagreement. "What if they were _wrong_? What if one of us sidekicks could hold our own?"

"I don't know, Sue."

Sue gave a huff and brushed past him, back to the classroom. Other sidekicks were exchanging books from their lockers or taking restroom breaks. Sue was rigid in form, her shoulders held back, absolutely in control. He knew then that Sue secretly hated being a sidekick, and he did as well but knew it was his place. He had to admit her power was impressive, but didn't know if that warranted her a spot in the hero class. He would just have to do his best to make sidekick class fun for her.

They returned to their seats. Jon looked at the clock seeing that it was another hour before they would be let out for lunch.

Bitters was in the middle of lecturing when another question popped into Jon's head, without raising his hand he blurted, "What's the deal with the Russian Heroes?"

Bitters paused, a little startled at the question. His classmates turned to stare at him. Medulla rolled his eyes, seeing Jon was still stuck on the subject from the day before.

"I don't see how your question has anything to do with historic sidekick figures, Boy."

"It doesn't…I just wanted to see if you knew."

"I think you should you should take a visit to the front office," Bitters pulled out a pink slip of paper and scribbled on it.

"What?! I didn't do anythi—" Jon protested, shocked that he was getting sent to the principal's office. He wasn't even being problematic!

"Shut it Boy. Take this and go to the office," Bitters frowned and held out the slip. Jon frowned and pushed out of his seat, yanked the slip from Bitters and left the room. Before he slammed the door though, he caught Bitters giving him a wink. _What does that mean!?_

It seemed a harsh penalty for interrupting with an off-subject question. He furiously thought of what other reason Bitters would send him out. He shuffled down the empty hallway, suddenly nervous about seeing Principal Stryker—especially after what Phil and Dave said yesterday about the guy. He entered the office and handed the secretary Bitters's note.

"Sit there until called upon," she pointed at a chair lining the wall. He slumped down and held his head in his hands, trying to think. _Bitters winked at me, it means something. There must be a reason he wants me to go the office. Russian heroes is such a touchy subject right now…maybe there is a connection!_

"The principal will see you now," the Secretary announced. Jon's head shot up and he gulped, hoping what the guys had said was just over exaggeration.

He opened the door that had the principal's nameplate on it. The office had the smell of new furniture and at the desk in the middle of the room; a rotating chair was sitting with its back to him.

"What trouble have you been causing, Jonathan?"

Jon jumped a bit, startled that the principal knew his name already.

"Sir, I never cause trouble."

The rotating chair turned around, and Jon saw the man who was Anthony Stryker, principal of Sky High. He looked absolutely menacing, with that trace of sly trickery the way he sat and the way his cold eyes regarded the boy.

'There must be a reason to why you here," Stryker brought up a file and filed through the papers in it, looking for something.

Jon noticed something odd about the way he spoke—he had an accent hidden in his words but it was so subtle you had to have quick reactions to pick it up. When Stryker said '_why'_ there was a slight _'v'_ sound blurred into it… '_There must be a reason to __**vy**__ you here'. _Stryker had at one time, had a Russian accent!

Jon swallowed and bravely asked, "What do you know about Russian heroes, Principal Stryker?"


	10. IX

Jon sat on the living room sofa, his blue eyes wide and focused but not really watching the ABC After School Special on the television screen. His mind was replaying the scene of Stryker just after Jon had asked about Russians.

_Stryker narrowed his eyes. He studied Jon. Jon felt his palms get sweaty from the sheer nervousness of confronting his principal about Russians. It was a serious matter, Russians._

_ "Ah," Stryker nodded, as if the whole reply was bundled in that knowing tone. To Jon's surprise the man had more to say, "I know very much about Russian heroes, just as I know very much about Russian villains, do you know why?"_

_ Jon obviously knew the answer but wasn't so bold to accuse Stryker of being a Russian. So Jon merely shook his head, feigning ignorance._

_ "I know because it is my job to know. It is not YOUR job to know Mr. Boy. Now I suggest you return to class and behave yourself."_

_ Jon happily took Stryker's suggestion and was out of the door as fast as he reflexes would carry him_

Still, even after so many hours later, Jon knew that the principal had a Russian accent; no one else knew or could pick up as it was so masterfully hidden to the average ear. He couldn't do anything about it though—why would any adults believe him?

He pulled out his homework on historic sidekick figures. He had missed the latter part of the lecture because of going to the front office. He had to start a research paper on a historical sidekick figure, but had no idea where to start since Mr. Bitters—_Mr. Biters knows something! _Jon lost his trail of thought, remembering how his teacher had winked at him after sending him to the principal's office. Mr. Bitters had sent him to the Principal because Jon was the only one who's hearing was quick enough to detect the hidden accent. Or at least, that was theory Jon came up with in his head.

He flipped through his textbook for any idea on who do a research paper on. He was not going to research anyone cliché like Dick Grayson or Bucky Barnes of the Captain America fame. No, he was going to find a sidekick figure that was truly inspiring.

He went to his mother's library of everything super, which included comics about super people, newspaper clippings and top-secret directories of the P.O.W.E.R Coalition members. It appeared to be a walk-in closet but there was a trap door behind the main door that opened down into a den. The den held shelves of all his mother's personal books, and her _Silver Tongue_ mask and suit. The one he was staring at was in a case and it was retired, she had outgrown it after giving birth to him. Her current suit was hidden at the flower shop since that was where she was when she was needed.

Jon pulled out a random golden age Captain America comic in his mother's collection. He rolled his eyes, thinking of the over-praised 'Bucky' sidekick. Superheroes, villains, and sidekicks in comics weren't _real_. They were all _based _off of real super people though.

Almost every super person knew that Captain America was based off of Captain Steven Roberts, a WWII naval officer who fought for America and destroyed many enemy ships using his optimal, serum-induced-human-powers. Jon ended up getting sucked into his mother's Captain America comics the rest of the evening without finding a successful figure to write his research paper on.

"Jonny?" he jumped a little and looked up to see his mother peeking her head through the trap door. He smiled and continued reading. "What are you doing in my _secret lair_?"

He laughed lightly, "Sidekicks don't have _secret lairs, _more like _hidden closets_."

"Do you want to eat dinner? I made lasagna."

Jon felt his stomach rumble and nodded, closing the comic book and finding its place back on the shelf.

He climbed out of the den and into the walk in closet, "Did you know that Captain America ditched Bucky for a sidekick called 'Golden Girl?'"

His mother paused in the threshold and turned to face him with a smile, "Yes, I knew that. Her name was Betsy Ross and she fell in love with the Captain's alter ego—they got married."

"You mean a hero _married_ a sidekick?" Jon was amazed.

"Love was love, my baby boy," she threw an arm around his shoulders with motherly love. He cringed at her cutesy nickname for him—which he had outgrown by ten years at least. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly though when she added, "Such unions were not frowned upon back then." She steered him to the kitchen, where his father was already chowing down and the mixed lasagna smells of cheese, meat, and tomato wrapped around them. Still, her words stuck into his head. _Love was love_—and he loved Josie Del Marco. Maybe that was the glimmer of hope he had of them ever being together, that is, if she ever noticed him.

* * *

Everything was back to normal by Wednesday. No one was demanding answers for their sleepless weekend or tortuous nightmares. High school students, even ones with superpowers seemed to just want to continue forward with life. He sat in the library with about three books and a blank notebook—still having not found a historic sidekick to write about. He looked at the paper with the requirements on it

—_A historic sidekick figure real or fictitious may be chosen as the topic of your research. The paper must be five pages in length minimum._

Jon inwardly groaned whenever he read the length requirement. It was good the paper wasn't due for a few weeks. The rest of the information he had bulleted and underlined in pen. The library was so quiet except for the few students mulling around the narrow shelves. His whole sidekick class was supposed to be in the library studying. Bitters stayed at his desk in the classroom—leaving Miss Dewey, the librarian, in charge of the students.

Medulla took a seat next to Jon with his own pile of books—he looked glum.

"Why so down?" Jon wondered, resting his head in his hand while propping it up with his elbow on the tabletop.

"Mr. Bitters won't let me pick Chewbacca as a sidekick figure—he isn't 'historical' enough."

Jon bit his lip in order not to laugh, "You mean the 'walking carpet' from _Star Wars_?"

Medulla grinned at Jon's ability to quote, "He's a very interesting sidekick. I know he's fictitious and alien but man, that movie was awesome—Chewbacca is awesome!"

"_Shhh!" _Miss Dewey hissed, pressing her finger to her lips. Jon wasn't surprised Medulla loved the _Star Wars_ movie—most every guy did—but he _was_ surprised Medulla respected Chewbacca. A super genius respecting a wookie—weird.

Medulla flipped open one of his books and pointed to an illustration of a man transforming.

"Who is that? The Incredible Hulk?"

"It's Dr. Jekyll turning into Mr. Hyde," Medulla set the book down but kept it open at that page.

"How does any of that relate to the assignment?"

"You don't have to be partnered with a _hero_ to be a _sidekick_. This character is of historic significance because it shows dual personalities. Dr. Jekyll is an ordinary man but creates a serum that transforms him into his darker side—Mr. Hyde."

Jon still didn't understand Medulla's point and shook his head.

"I can argue that Hyde is Jekyll's sidekick and then when Hyde overpowers Jekyll—Jekyll becomes the sidekick. This man is his _own_ sidekick technically because you can't think of 'Jekyll' without 'Hyde'."

Jon slumped down in his chair, wishing that he were clever enough to come up with an argument like that. Medulla was going to have rad time writing his paper and researching split personalities. He let out a heavy sigh and continued flipping through the books he had picked out—searching for a sidekick.

Soon, Jimmy Bozaboil, the space heater, joined them—Jimmy didn't have any books. Jimmy was a slack student, and never did any of the readings.

"So what'd you guys find so far?"

"Nothing," Jon mumbled, hoping his tone was low enough for Miss Dewey.

"Lots," Medulla chirped with the right amount of glee expected.

Jimmy frowned slightly—disappointed he couldn't use any of their information to an academic advantage. He tapped his fingers on the table and looked around. Jon stared at the pages of a book that he did not comprehend. Medulla bobbed his large head back and forth to a happy tune—probably _'My Sharona_' which was on the radio all the time—and he realized Jimmy was tapping the beat on the table.

_Crap, now it's stuck in my head!_ The beat replayed in his head as Jimmy kept time with his finger tapping. Dada Dada-da. da. Dada Dada-da. da. Dada Dada-da. da. _My Sharona!_ The most annoying part was that was all the lyrics he knew.

He made a frustrated noise after a few minutes and left the table.

"Are you done with your books?" Miss Dewey questioned as he set his books onto the extension of her desk.

"Yeah, sure."

She flicked each of them on the spine and they vanished from the desk, but reappeared in their rightful place on the shelves. He wasn't sure about the extent of Miss Dewey's powers but figured she would have been doing hero work if she could make _everything _do that.

Jon walked back to the classroom. The halls were remotely empty. He passed a few cutters who stood around at their lockers. The students that skipped class were mostly ones with powers other people didn't want to mess with.

He masterfully avoided eye contact with them, but they were not the type to let a sidekick walk by without a small amount of hassle.

He felt the back of his shirt being yanked, and to his dismay, stumbled backwards into the middle of their group.

"Why are you out here?"

"Jeez, I'm just going back to my class from the library," he frowned—already in a sour mood. _Dada Dada-da. da. Dada Dada-da. __—"_Shut up!" he was yelling to stop that stupid _Sharona_ song from repeating in his head and he meant to do it silently.

The class-cutters raised their brows at his outburst.

"Excuse me?" a girl with too much makeup balked, then glowered, "_You_ shouldn't talk like that to _us_."

"Sorry—"_ But I'm really not, _"Look, I have to go."

He made an attempt to flee but the worst possible person teleported right next to them with his arms full of junk food from the vending machine. Upon seeing, Jon, Portman shoved his goods into one of his buddy's arms and pushed Jon.

"What the hell are you doing here, you smack?"

"Leaving," Jon replied before turning around.

"He told us to shut up when _we_ asked him," the girl mentioned in a whiny voice, trying to egg Portman into a fight.

Portman glanced at Jon with a look of disgust. Jon was a few feet away when with a '_poof'_ Portman teleported right in front of him. Jon stumbled backwards in surprise but Portman caught him by the front of his shirt and punched him in the side of the face. It stung, and Jon quickly held his hand up to shield any more blows but Portman then switched to punching him in the gut—something his reflexes didn't expect. Portman gave a laugh, as Jon doubled over. _Why are they doing this to me?_ He curled into a ball as he lay in the hallway, the other class-cutting heroes joined Portman in kicking Jon while he was down. It wasn't a fair fight, and it wasn't a just fight. How could they even consider themselves _heroes_?

"Hey! Stop!" they heard a voice call from down the hallway.

Jon scrunched open his eyes and saw Shaun Wilson, student body president approaching hastily. Before Portman realized it, the student body president had him in a fast grip. "Why are you beating on this kid, Jason?"

Portman chortled and easily teleported out of Shaun's grasp, and closer to his group, "Why not?"

Shaun narrowed his eyes and helped Jon stand. Jon's sides were in pain, he held them but still his face stung—his lip was bleeding.

"If you guys don't get back to class, I'll report you to Cardiano," Shaun threatened.

"'Cause your such a narc like that."

They laughed as they sauntered off, but Portman threw a 'cutthroat' gesture at Jon before he turned his back on them.

"Are you okay?" Shaun asked, but saw the sorry state of the freshman sidekick, "Maybe you should go see Spex."

Jon nodded gingerly and mumbled, "Thanks."

Nurse Spex gasped when he entered her office, "Oh dearie, your lip is bleeding!"

Jon nodded and collapsed to sit on the medical table. He felt a huge lump of mixed emotions in his throat—anger, sadness, pain—at the so-called '_heroes'_ who had beaten him.

The lady grabbed a small washcloth, dampened it with warm water, and handed it to him. "Here, dearie, put that on your lip. What happened to you?" She took a step back and used her x-ray vision to search him for broken bones.

"I got beat up," he said and winced at the stinging of his busted lip.

"Where?"

"The hallway that goes to the library."

She shook her head with a concerned frown, "Horrible bullies! Why would they want to harm such a handsome young man like you?"

He felt a tinge of warmth at her comment but still glared at nothing, "Because I'm a sidekick, why else?"

She became quiet, obviously aware that sidekicks were the victims of hero scorn. Instead of saying anything comforting, she gave him a complementary lollypop sucker. The cherry flavor would not heal him, or the problems within the school.


	11. X

"So, are you going to tell me?"

Jon looked up from the ground and to Sue who sat next to him on the bus seat. He raised a questionable eyebrow.

"What happened," she continued and lightly touched the place on his lip with one of her fingertips. It only stung mildly. He pulled his head back and licked the wound—tasted the remnants of his own blood.

He knew she disliked heroes, and knew if he told her the truth she would do so even more. Also, she might think he was weak, and he already felt weak enough.

"I uh, fell down the stairs. My lip busted open."

Sue winced slightly by twisting her mouth, "Ouch."

"Yeah. I'm clumsy," he shrugged.

They continued the bus ride home in silence. Sue stared out the window at passing sky or landscape. He noticed her to always be lost in thought—and wished he knew what those thoughts were just to understand her better.

"Well, see you tomorrow," he nodded as he stood—not surprised that she didn't acknowledge him. He walked around the side of the bus and as he passed the window could see her staring through it—with that far off look in her dark eyes. As if the entire world was only there through a glass window and she would always remain on the other side. Her stare sent shivers up his arms.

It was a gray day. There was a cloudy sky and cold moisture floated in the air, cling to and dampening his skin and hair. Boomer hopped off the bus behind him, accidentally-on-purpose stepping on the heels of his shoes.

"Cut it out," Jon turned around and scowled. Boomer looked taken aback but once he saw Jon's lip smirked.

"Awww, is whiner-baby having a bad day?"

Jon couldn't help himself; he stuck out his palms and firmly shoved Boomer away from him.

"Boomer stop being such an asshole," Josie chided from behind them, because she was the last one at their stop to get off of the bus and saw Boomer's shenanigans. Jon was a little surprised to hear her swear, and come to his defense.

"He shoved me first!" Boomer was in danger of putting his sonic screaming to use.

She shook her head, "Grow up children."

Jon glowered at Boomer before stomping off to his house. _Great, now Josie thinks I'm immature_. _She probably wasn't even defending me—just taking a chance to call out Boomer, _he lamented silently as he went about his after school routine. Television, homework, dinner, television, sleep. Fortunately his parents believed his lie about falling down the stairs. He didn't know why he didn't tell the truth. Perhaps he needed the heroes to be infallible so that they remained heroes. In his life he had always believed them to be great and just but those heroes who had beat him up that afternoon were _not_.

_They're not heroes. They don't do good deeds, and they hurt me. _Jon then realized sadly, that just because someone had great powers and attended Sky High—that didn't earn them the right to be called 'hero.'

Fortunately, it was one of those nights he didn't fall asleep to their arguing. Maybe the quiet was a good sign—maybe they were seeing it was ridiculous to fight if they loved each other. Then again, a darker thought occurred to him—one that he didn't want to acknowledge. _They're silent because they're too mad at each other to argue._

He was too exhausted to even think of a reason to why they were angry.

* * *

"_**Carry on my wayward son**_

_**There'll be peace when you are done**_

_**Lay your wary head to rest**_

_**Don't you cry no more"**_

Jon opened a bleary eye to Thursday morning. He thought maybe God was reassuring him everything was going to be okay—but it was only Kansas singing on his radio alarm clock—which just hit the time of 7:15 a.m.

He felt his lip—which had begun to scab over during the night. He threw around the clothes from his closet, looking for something to wear—settling on a sweater and a clean pair of blue jeans. He suddenly remembered that this was the day they had to turn in their proposed historical sidekick figure to Bitters. He mentally kicked himself for forgetting and wanted to kick the world for not providing one he wanted to research. Perhaps he could spend the first ten minutes before school in the library and frantically search through and pick one. He had never crammed in his life, but felt he would need to.

After he ate his breakfast, he stepped outside to go to the bus stop and saw the neighborhood was veiled in a fog from all the hanging moisture of days past. Visibility was depleted. He could see Josie's figure emerge as he neared the corner of their street.

She wore a jacket and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail—lovely as always.

"How about this fog?" Jon smiled at her.

"It's thick," she shrugged.

"Do you think it's too much for the bus to get through while flying?"

She shook her head, not very concerned about it. He was though, with the almost zero visibility, it could have easily crashed into something while in the sky—not to mention get lost.

They heard faint music—which seemed to consist of crashing instruments, a wailing voice. Boomer appeared then moving his shoulders, bobbing up and down—and mouthing the lyrics filling his headphones to his Walkman. Obviously he was over Gloria Gaynor and onto AC/DC.

"It's a highwaaay to Hell!" Boomer became vocalized once he reached them—and thankfully did not boom it into their eardrums. Jon glanced at his watch and wondered if the fog would cause the bus to be late. They waited five extra minutes for the bus than usual. The bus driver gave no reason or apology to why he was late, just opened the door and smiled as always.

Sue was leaning against the window with her eyes closed when he sat next to her. She must have been dozing. He knew since she lived downtown, the bus picked her up nearly an hour earlier.

The bus drove further and picked up the last of the students on its route. It lifted off the ground and into the foggy sky. The students were relatively quiet on the grey Thursday. Jon took a glance at Sue, wondering why that day of all other days she was asleep. She was usually attentive, looking out the window or engaging Jon in minor conversation. _I hope this isn't because of the same thing that caused the heroes to have nightmares last weekend_.

A normal bump in the bus flight sent a loose strand of her dark hair into her eyes. It must have tickled or irritated her eyelids because he could see her brow furrow and un-furrow, unconsciously trying to remove it.

He thought he'd do her a favor and move it for her since she wasn't awake to do it herself. He slowly swiped the strand of hair back until it was behind her ear. As soon as his fingers touched the side of her face, the bus gave a vicious jerk. Students cried out in alarm. The bus driver shifted a few levers to try and regain control.

_I knew this would happen if we flew in the fog!_ Jon's eyes grew round and scared as they all heard the bus's engine make awful scraping sounds. The bus veered into such a sharp angle that Jon fell off the seat into the aisle, as did other students in front and behind him. Sue's body slid onto the seat but before she could fall into him, his reactions kicked in and he caught her—held her there on the seat. This was enough to cause her eyes to open drearily—confused. Jon seemed upside-down in her line of sight. They heard the bus driver frantically trying to use the radio to find aid—but it seemed to be nothing but static. The bus switched its flying angle, causing him to plummet forward into her. She slammed against the window and shouted in pain. Holding her head and glaring furiously, she looked to Jon. That was when the bus's engine failed entirely and began to plummet. Everyone began to scream—no one could do anything—all were paralyzed with fear. Boomer's scream blasted over all the others. Sue's eyes were wide and her glasses were crooked, "What's going on?"

"The bus! It's wacked out! I think all the fog is messing with its internal hovering device. We're all going to die!" Then to his own surprise he latched onto her in a last attempt to feel comfort before he died—to know he had a friend. He hugged her tightly with his eyes shut, dreading the impact his body would hit the earth with—physics dictated they would be obliterated—crushed into nothing. He thought of his parents, and how sad they would be—hoped they would reconcile as all they would have after this was each other. He opened his eyes to take one last look at his beautiful Josie. She was crying as she tried forcing the window open—so she could fly away. Maybe she could save herself—he hoped she would.

He felt Sue's body relax under his embrace and in that instant—the bus's engine started again and leveled off. In a few minutes, they landed safely on the lot of Sky High. The students hurried off the hell ride in sobs and relief. The bus driver immediately went inside to report the incident.

Sue pulled the hood of her jacket over her head, grabbed her backpack and nearly shoved one student to the floor as she tried leaving. Jon gasped, realizing something. He hurried after her and grabbed her upper arm as she stomped across the grass.

"Sue!"

"WHAT!?"

He backed away, not understanding why she was so ashamed.

"You saved us," he said quietly. He saw her hard stare transform into another expression, a haunted one—but he continued, "You used your powers to fix the malfunction in the technology of the bus. You're a hero, Sue."

She shook her head, "Don't tell _anybody_ what you just said, because it's the furthest thing from the truth."

She turned away, and headed inside. The fog was thinner at the high altitude but it made it no less eerie the way she disappeared into it. He had to wonder how they were saved then if she didn't do it—was it luck? No, it had to have been Sue. Did she dislike heroes so much that she refused to acknowledge she had done a heroic deed? He sighed and figured it was best to leave the adults to think it was a glitch that had miraculously fixed itself—but he knew in his heart Sue was the cause of it—and was thankful.


	12. XI

So much for getting to the library early and picking a sidekick figure for his research paper. Jon's near-death experience had sucked all the extra time he would have had otherwise. However, he did have enough time to go to the classroom and ask Bitters for an extension—he had to _try_—and maybe he could try speaking eloquent like his mother to get Bitters to agree on it.

Bitters was sitting at his desk, and of course, had a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. Jon knocked on the door and cleared his throat to hint at his arrival. Bitters looked up from the papers on his desk and regarded the scrawny freshman.

"Boy? Whacha need?"

"Mr. Bitters I was just wondering…well I was hoping…"

"Whom are you doing your research paper on again?"

"Well that's what I was going to ask—"

He waved his arms down, "Well just forget about it, I have a book here I want you to take a look at—it has a listing of classic heroes and sidekicks from all around the world." Bitters opened up a drawer on his desk and laid a heavy book on top. Jon approached to take a better look.

"Why me?"

"You're a bright student, and I know you notice certain things about the world that other people don't or refuse to."

Jon wondered if he was talking about Stryker's hidden accent. He just shrugged modestly in reply. Bitters opened the book and flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. Jon saw the page to have an old sepia-toned photograph of a young man. The name above read '_Winston Marveler._'

"I think you'd be interested in this figure," Bitters pointed at the youth. Jon doubted it, for he had never even heard of a 'Winston Marveler' before—and Jon had cleaned out most of the books in his mother's personal library. Bitters placed an index card on the page and closed it, handing it to Jon.

"Okay," he said, but was secretly thankful he at least had a figure picked although it was yet to be determined if he would like doing research on a kid he had never heard of in the super world.

Students from his sidekick class started to take their seats for the morning session. Jon sat at his desk and placed the big book in front of him. He quickly pulled out a piece of notebook paper, scribbled his name on it and then wrote a short paragraph on who his chosen sidekick figure was—well, not really his _choice_—but he could come up with nothing better.

Medulla sat at the desk next to him, "Are you alright?"

"Huh?" Jon glanced up from writing. Medulla looked him with a critical gaze—studying him. Sue brushed past them on her way to sit at her desk that was behind Medulla's.

"It has been said that your bus's internal hovering unit malfunctioned this morning, and that everyone almost perished."

Jon glanced at Sue who only stared ahead with a hard frown—still upset for whatever reason. She was so odd and he didn't understand why she was so ashamed of saving everyone.

"Yeah, we almost did."

"Studies on human behavior in such predicaments would contradict the indifference I'm reading from your reaction."

"I'm shaken, but I have to go on—it's no use worrying over something you can't change," he explained and again, shot a look at Sue hoping she would pick up on his advice—at least concerning her power placement.

Bitters told the class to shut up and hand over their proposals. Once he had collected the papers he told the class they were free to start their research and map out different points of their paper. Jon picked up the big book and walked to the library with Medulla. The same group of class-cutters were hanging around in the hallway. They smirked with silent mockery when he passed. He sort of slouched, trying to make himself as unnoticeable as possible—the mere presence of them sucked away his courage and self-confidence.

They couldn't do anything to him though since more students were around—most of them his class that were heading to the library.

"So Bitters will let you do a paper about Jekyll and Hyde?"

"He's actually very interested in seeing the outcome of my paper."

"It's kind of nifty," Jon grinned, happy his friend got to write a paper on something fun—even if it wasn't Chewbacca.

They settled at one of the study tables in the middle of the room. He saw Sue at a table in the corner, by herself. He shook his head, confused at why she was secluding herself all of a sudden.

He opened the book to the page with the index card and started reading about Winston Marveler. By the end of the first paragraph he was interested and by the fourth paragraph he was feeling enthusiastic about his paper.

Winston Marveler had lived during the turn of the twentieth century, and as a young boy ran away to join the traveling shows. It was there that he first met people with super powers.

Before any organization existed for supers, they were scattered about. Normal people considered them 'freaks'. Sometimes they would take up masked vigilantism but most of those with powers joined traveling shows to perform, using their abilities. Winston didn't possess a power so grand to allure an audience but he could put all his thoughts down onto paper with his mind—'telepathic inking'. He moved from show crew to show crew, recording the doings off all the super powered attractions—until he had 100 or so journals telling of their amazing feats.

Those journals were then purchased by Martin Goodman twenty years later, and used to launch the idea of 'super heroes' in the Marvel Comics—which caused regular people to stop regarding the supers as 'freaks'. Basically, Winston Marveler had single handedly aided the people of superior abilities with his mere thoughts. _Now that is a sidekick who held all the power_. It was such a different kind of thought to think that the one with so little helped those with so much more. He related to Marveler because he took the time to notice small things and used them for a greater purpose.

Suddenly, a hand poked a piece of paper in his face; he looked up to see an office aid. "Office wants to see you."

"Why?"

The office aid shrugged and shoved the paper at him. He grew worried. Did Stryker have something else to say or did he want to threaten Jon for suspecting the truth? The aid then pulled out another piece and looked at the name, then trotted over to where Sue was. "Office wants to see you too."

Jon closed his book and made his way to the office. Sue was right behind him.

Only a few of the cutters were standing around this time as they passed, since it was only him and Sue—they weren't worried about getting heat if they hassled them.

Jon took Sue by her upper arm and led her to the other side of the hallway, staring at the ground as they passed. "One busted lip enough for ya?"

He only had a well-kept frown as he passed, and refused to acknowledge them. He felt Sue's eyes on him—she was smart and could figure out what had happened.

They entered the front office and handed their papers to the secretary. She nodded and went into another adjoined office that wasn't the principal's, "Some more are here Mr. Cardiano."

Jon looked to Sue with question. She just slipped her hands into her pockets and gave an unknowing shrug at what was happening. They saw Josie emerge out of the smaller office, looking worse for wear. Jon smiled at her, perhaps to cheer her up, as she looked sad. She walked passed them both and didn't pay attention, and his smile faded.

"Jonathan Boy?" He took a gulp and entered the vice principal's office. Cardiano was sitting at his desk, in an office that could never compare the grandeur that was Stryker's. He had read Jon's name off the paper that Jon had handed to the secretary. He entered reluctantly, not knowing what Cardiano wanted.

"Take a seat."

Jon did. Cardiano cracked his neck, seeming beleaguered. "I have you here because I'm taking statements from the students who were riding bus SH-3 this morning. It is a very serious matter when one of our transportation units fails like that. Can you—for the record—state what happened?"

Jon darted his eyes around the room, wondering if he should mention how Sue fixed it—to at least give her credit. Though, he remembered her voice, and the way she looked at him and _demanded_ that he not mention it. What was the right thing to do?

"Well I…the bus was a few minutes late and I was riding it for about ten minutes before there was a jerk and the engine made awful scraping sounds. We were thrown about for the next few minutes and then the bus took a nosedive."

"How long were you falling?"

Jon couldn't remember—he was too busy being terrified and thinking of his parents and Josie to count the seconds. "Maybe 20 seconds?"

Cardiano wrote something down on a clipboard, "Thank you. You're excused."

Jon got up and went to leave._ What about Sue? Should I tell him?_ Jon turned around. "Mr. Cardiano…" the vice principal looked up and raised a brow. Sue's voice was in his head though, a subtle plea in her near-panicked tone of '_Don't tell **anybody**__ what you just said._'

He sighed, "Do you think the fog caused the bus to malfunction?"

Cardiano shrugged, "It's the first time we've had fog this thick while having the busses on route. A mechanical investigation will proceed shortly because we can't be having our students falling out of the sky every time we get fog."

Jon wasn't sure if his statement was a _yes_ or a _no_ but took it as it was and exited the office. Sue passed him quickly as they heard Cardiano announce her name. _She was eavesdropping, to make sure I didn't tell him_.

He waited for her to be done with Cardiano, but didn't stand around the doorway to hear what she had to say. If she didn't want him telling the vice principal, there was no way she was going to admit it herself. Instead he thought of why she was so on edge about it.

_'Don't tell **anybody**__ what you just said because it's the furthest thing from the truth_' is what she had said. What did she mean though, when she said it was the furthest thing from the truth? If Jon said that she had saved them all and it was the furthest thing from truth—then the truth was—_death_. She had started it _and_ finished it.

Sue must have answered the vice principal's questions faster because she walked out suddenly. Jon stood and followed her.

They walked down the hallway but she turned quickly and didn't head back in the library' s direction.

He kept following her, wanting to ask her about the truth, "Sue, hey, Sue!"

She whirled around, "I thought you said you fell down the stairs?"

"Huh?"

"Those heroes we passed on the way to the office—_they_ gave you that," she pointed at the scab on his lip. "You lied."

"Because it's embarrassing."

Something changed in her eyes. They weren't staring at him with a hardness anymore. She adjusted her glasses, turned, and continued forward.

"Why don't you tell me the real reason we almost died this morning?"

She halted her steps and leaned into a locker before sliding down, realizing Jon had figured her out. When she spoke, it was barely audible, "because it's embarrassing."

He took a seat next to her with his back against the row of lockers. It was a stiff position, but he was willing to sit there all day if Sue would feel better, she was obviously not well. "I know that you didn't mean to do it."

She shook her head, dismayed and stared in front of them, into nothing. "I was—I was dreaming but it got bad and somehow I lost control of my powers. It caused the bus to break, Jon. I almost killed everyone." She looked at him and blinked, but her tone was still even, "I almost killed _you_."

He put a comforting arm around her, "It'll be okay."

He was lying again, because he had a bad feeling that it wasn't.


	13. XII

Over the next few weeks Jon went about diligently writing his paper about Winston Marveler. Jon came to feel akin to the boy who had not just been a sidekick but a sidekick to all of hero kind. It was mid November—Thanksgiving only a week away and he was excited for the break from school and to visit his grandparents in Philadelphia. His parents and he would leave when he let out of school on Tuesday and spend the rest of the week there. His grandma made the best pecan pie he had ever tasted, and he couldn't wait to eat the richly sweet dessert.

His grandparents in Philly were the parents of his father, so they weren't very aware that he or his mother had powers. They thought he went to a private school for gifted kids—which he was really smart but the truth wasn't quite the right 'gifted' they had in mind. He found himself often distracted at reading the profiles of other noted or historic figures from Mr. Bitters' book—just as a habit.

He had the paper in its final draft and decided to title it, '_The sidekick who saved Heroes._' Boy, if that were the truth now. Jon stretched his wrist from writing so much—if he did it for too long his penmanship would get sloppy and he would stop dotting his 'i's. He thought of the time off he would get the rest of the week for the holiday—maybe he could practice saving the citizen after school the next day.

Every Friday in Phys-Ed, Coach Split had started running Save the Citizen matches, starting with the upper classman. Jon, of course—just like everyone else loved to watch the players in action. Then, every other Monday in Phys-Ed, Split ran official Save the Citizen matches for the Championship. Shaun Wilson, student body president, and Cassie Lightfoot were the hardest to knock out—still reigning champs from the year before. Sometimes they would call out a freshman to have a chance at the game, but no freshman ever won. Neither Jon nor his friends were ever chosen—in fact, most sidekicks were left out of the championship matches because everyone thought they were too easy.

Stronghold was picked a lot, especially when up against Shaun—they were matched solidly and their partner was the deciding factor of the win. Shaun always picked Cassie, and they always won.

Jon sighed, wishing he would get a chance to play Save the Citizen someday—well—he would definitely get to when he was a senior when Split did normal matches. He would never get to play in championship games though. After school Mondays, Split stayed and ran 'just-for-fun' Save the Citizen rounds. Jon hadn't gotten the courage to go to one yet although it was a nagging desire in his heart.

Instead, he went to the Fun Time Lounge or watched reruns of '_Star Trek_' at Medulla's house. He had gone to the Fun Time Lounge with Phil, Medulla, and Lance that weekend. They held their own championship games on the air hockey table all afternoon with Lance winning because he would slyly use his gravity powers to reverse the puck. They all called him a dirty cheater but he only laughed light-heartedly at their accusations. Then Medulla challenged him to a game of pool, and he had is ass handed to him. Medulla was famous within the Fun Time Lounge for being the best pool player anyone had seen.

His parent's arguments had died down significantly—though he could sense a strain between them still and could not figure the reason. He never informed his parents that he had almost died that foggy morning in October, because he didn't want them to worry. Sometimes though, when he heard their shouting escalate he wanted to throw himself in between them and tell them he _did_ almost die, and then they would have nothing left but each other. At least, that's what he told himself.

Sue had relaxed a little from the bus incident—she still was carefully guarded as always and Jon thought staying with her in the hallway for that extra half hour made her feel better. She had been busy after school, since she had joined the Sky High science club—and wasn't around as much.

He still wondered about his principal—wondered how to expose him for the Russian he was. The relations with Russia and its super heroes were still tense according to the media. The news reporters had decided to highlight that the Russian heroes were not speaking to anyone from the Coalition of P.O.W.E.R—and it made the U.S. citizens even more wary—knowing the Coalition wasn't taking a preemptive action.

He stared at the picture of Marveler; _I wish I could live in your time, when things weren't so complicated_. In 1906 there were no gas shortages, no threats from nuclear arms, and no difference between heroes and sidekicks. They paired up and fought as equals, not using a sidekick to handle all their gear and to come up with witty quips.

* * *

Jon handed Mr. Bitters his paper. Bitter raised his eyebrow, impressed. "You know this isn't due until _tomorrow_?"

"Well yeah—"

Sue approached the desk and also stuck out her paper. Jon didn't even know whom she did her research on.

Bitters whistled, "Well aren't you kids the cream of the crop?" He took them and put them in a folder. They took their seats and Bitters took a sip of coffee but realized he was out—he sighed.

"So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?" Jon leaned back and asked Sue.

She shrugged, "Not much, maybe I'll watch the parade on TV."

"What? You don't get to go over to a relative's house and eat turkey?"

"No."

Jon felt so sorry for the girl; she didn't have much of a family. Then he smiled brightly, "I could ask my parents if you could come to Philadelphia with us for our Thanksgiving!" It didn't seem like a bad idea—he could catch up with her, she wouldn't be stuck at home, she would get to at least eat _turkey_."

She gave him a look of incredulousness but then to his surprise smiled warmly, "Thanks Jon, but I'll be fine without turkey."

"Bummer for ya, you don't know what you'd be missing."

She only shrugged with indifference once more and that was when Bitters coffee must have been refilled because he started teaching them about important gadgetry for sidekicks.

Jon still had possession of Mr. Bitters' book of superheroes but had been taking an interest in the other stories that were in it. He didn't want to return it quite yet, and the library carried no copies.

During a class break Jon approached his teacher with crossed fingers, "Mr. Bitters, I was wondering if I could borrow the book you lent me for a little longer. You see—"

"'Course you can Boy, knock yourself out."

Jon smiled and nodded appreciatively. At least he would have some reading material while he was in Pennsylvania.

Sidekick class resumed and Bitters finished up the lesson on gadgetry just in time for lunch. Jon was stuffing his notebooks into his locker as he noticed Sue looking over some notes. He hadn't had a chance to ask her how she was doing since the bus incident. She seemed fine enough but then again, he knew Sue to mask her feelings extraordinarily well.

"So, who did you do your paper on?"

She looked up sharply, seeming annoyed she was being bothered but softened when she saw it was only Jon. She slipped her notes into her locker and grabbed a brown paper bag with her lunch. It was one of the few times he had ever seen her with a bagged lunch—she usually just got a tray from the cafeteria.

"Widow."

Jon balked, not expecting such a historical figure, "_Her?_"

"What's wrong with her?"

"She was dishonorably discharged in 1942 for disobeying a direct order from her partner, Arachna, which resulted in 20 civilian fatalities. She was put in the book of _Renegades_."

"I know, but did you know that the 20 civilian fatalities were actually Arachna's fault? She only blamed it on Widow and everyone believed her. Isn't it sick that a hero blamed their own sidekick for the wrong they did?"

Jon stopped walking, his cheeks flushed in irritation, "I've read the story, and Arachna did _not_ blame Widow—it was Widow's fault. She did not climb to the third story of the burning building first, and so they got cooked. The firemen could have been rescuing the people on the ground floor while she did the third—but she didn't."

Sue rolled her eyes and huffed, "Yes you have read the story, but I did the _research_. I found newspaper clippings and testimonials from bystanders. "

Jon shook his head, not understanding her point.

"One witness on the second story could hear shouts of 'Help, I'm stuck! It's sticky!' and another one said that they saw Widow climb the stairs to the third story after rescuing them—so she _did _follow orders."

"Not entirely. She was supposed to go to the _third_ floor first."'

"Why should she if Arachna was already there?"

Jon opened his mouth to retort but stopped, "Wait. Arachna wasn't there, she was on the ground level."

"She swung into the third story to barricade any flames with her silk shields, but the victims got caught up in them. So she told Widow to go up and help them while Widow was on the second floor already climbing people down the side of the building. Widow _did_ go upstairs and she saw all the people caught in Arachna's mess but it was too late to do anything. So it was all Arachna's fault but she spun the story so she wouldn't be reprimanded for a sloppy rescue mission."

Jon didn't even know how to respond, "How do you know?"

"Just look up Widow's rebuttal to the accusation, pictures from the newspaper and the witness's testimony back it up. Arachna claimed that the witness was dizzy from too much smoke inhalation and that was good enough for the Coalition to convict Widow."

The arrived at the cafeteria, ten minutes late because of their Widow/Arachna debate. Sue brushed the hair out of her eyes and sat down at her usual place. Sometimes she would sit with the guys, sometimes she would sit with the Cutlass twins but as of late she sat by herself—and sometimes Dave would join her.

The truth about Widow was a staggering blow to his perception of heroes. Super heroes were the embodiment of the tried and true and to think that one let their innocent sidekick take the fall was disgusting.

He took a tray and paid for a hot lunch of some sort of casserole and a side of peas. He didn't bother sitting with Sue, feeling ashamed he had doubted her—she must have done a really good job on her paper then, if she had researched that far into Widow.

Medulla and the rest of his buddies were sitting at their usual table, the one closest to the back wall.

"I thought you disappeared," Lance nodded at Jon when he joined them then paused as if something he hadn't thought of before occurred, "Even though you don't have that power."

"No, I was talking to Sue about the paper we turned in."

"Why did you turn it in so early anyway, I'm smarter than _both _of you by years but I even know it is good to wait until the due date to turn something in, just in case you need to alter your words," Medulla questioned.

Jon shrugged, "I'm going to Philadelphia for Thanksgiving and wanted to get it done with."

"Why you going to Philly?" Phil wondered then an idea popped into his head and materialized as a Philly cheese steak sandwich. The smell alone was superior to the lumpy casserole Jon was eating. He took a mental note that he would bring his own lunch tomorrow.

"My grandparents live there."

"So this year, I told my Mom that I'd help with Thanksgiving dinner," Phil mentioned through bites, grossly spraying bits of steak and cheese onto the table. Jon shielded his food with his hand, even though he was done eating it. "I'm just gonna stand there and think of all the food she wants me to. She won't even have to _buy _a turkey or cook it for 6 hours. It's gonna be so awesome and _immediate_."

_Well that's useful_, Jon thought.

---

During gym, it was another Tournament match for Save the Citizen. Shaun and Cassie were, of course, the leading team. They picked Non Li, a junior who could cause your vision to blackout and Baron Battle. Jon and Medulla exchanged looks because it was quite a dangerous villain team that hadn't been paired before.

Baron didn't seem to ever enjoy the game but trudged down to the gym floor anyway. Non was confusing, she had such a dark power but she looked like a bottle of sunshine.

Bob got in his harness and Split shrilly blew his whistle as the start signal. Baron hurled flames at Shaun, who was not phased by it at all—he barely broke a sweat at the intense heat. The only concern he had was stopping the flames from burning through his clothes, so he was busy patting them out while running towards Bob.

Non stood in the center and smiled as Cassie grew in size, taller so she could reach Bob faster. With a simple blink of Non's eyes, Cassie stopped, disoriented, her vision gone—in a total blackout. Non's blackouts usually only lasted 30 seconds, she walked circles around Cassie, guarding her, making sure to hit her with another one as soon as her vision cleared. In the mean time Cassie was moving in the wrong direction with her hands held out in front of her, trying to find the right direction.

Shaun shoved Baron away hard, so he hit the floor. The action got his temper flaring and he ignited his whole arm, ready to set Shaun Wilson, student body president, on fire for good.

Cassie finally recovered and she shrunk to the size of a toddler and ran through Non's knees, returned to her normal height. Suddenly she wobbled and cried out in pain, then collapsed, nearly falling into the mulcher if it wasn't for Shaun catching her.

Split slammed on the emergency button to stop Bob's harness from descending further. He blew his whistle.

"What did you do to her?" Shaun glowered holding his girlfriend tightly.

Non looked like she was about to cry, "Nothing! Nothing! I only blacked her out that first time."

"What is goin' on?"

Cassie shook her head, "I don't feel well."

"Suck it up, Lightfoot, that ain't an excuse to lose the match."

Shaun looked upon her with concern. She held her forehead and stood albeit shakily. She took in a deep breath.

Split sat down again, ready to resume the tournament but Cassie's body lurched forward and she held her hand to her mouth, shaking her head profusely before sprinting out of the gymnasium. Shaun frowned and called after her before following her.

Split threw up his hands incredulously, "Well it's a draw! All you can suit out and go home."

There were some yips of happiness but a lot of the students were wondering why Cassandra Lightfoot, the popular and pretty senior was so sick that she couldn't finish a match of her favorite game.

* * *

A/N-I've just figured out this story will be pretty long because I plan to do all four years of Jon's high school life, he's still a freshman and it's going to take a good four to five chapters to finnish this year up. So, it's good news for the few of you who really like this and always want more. Also, FYI I casted my characters if this were to be a movie and the link to it is on my profile page. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing :)


	14. XIII

Jon ended up chickening out and not going to a just-for-fun Save the Citizen match after school. He feared he would do poorly and be mocked by his classmates. Instead he just headed home, happy that he didn't have any homework. He began to pack a suitcase for the trip to Philadelphia. He opened his closet to find something nice to wear on Thanksgiving Day. He hadn't seen his grandparents for a year or so. They usually called him on his birthday and sent him cards on the holidays stuffed with a five or ten dollar bill.

He decided to wear his dress slacks, a tie, and a white button up shirt for the holiday, and then the rest of his clothes that he packed were just jeans and long-sleeved shirts.

Since he had free time, he started doing a round of push-ups. He had slacked off of his routine since school started, and no bulging muscles were in sight. The carpet seemed to burn his hands as he counted each push up inside of his head. If only just some muscle would come of his exercising, he would be happy. He didn't have to be ripped like Stronghold or Shaun Wilson, study body president—he just wanted to be stronger.

After he was done with those, he washed his face and then started reading Bitters's book of famous super figures. Not only were there heroes and sidekicks, but also profiles of noted villains throughout history. Some of the descriptions of their villainous deeds made Jon sick to his stomach. He mentally noted which category they fell under as he read through them. Bitters had been right when he said that the most common type of _super _villains fell into the 'punisher' category. Given their brief histories, most seemed to have a horrid family life as children, or something dark happen to them that they couldn't cope with and so turned to villainy. It was rather sad.

When he was younger, he thought villains were just evil because they wanted be—now he realized that they didn't _want_ to, but had to because they could never be happy again—in some cases.

His mother returned from the flower shop earlier than usual, telling Jon that she and Vault had been out on an emergency call to stop someone from jumping off a building. Vault leaped up and grabbed the individual, returning them safely. His mother had used her silver tongue to convince them that life was too precious to end.

"So how was your day?"

"It was okay. I turned in my research paper a day early. Do you remember the historic incident of Arachna's sidekick, Widow?"

His mother raised her brows at the scandalous name, "Why yes. Why do you ask?"

"Is it possible that Widow didn't do anything wrong and it was Arachna's fault—she just blamed it all on her sidekick?"

His mother narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Where did you hear that?"

He was taken aback at her tone of voice, which reeked of scandal. "Sue Tenny did a research paper on it."

His mother lost the suspicion in her eyes and raised her brows again, "Tenny? Sue Tenny, Wallace Tenny's daughter?"

"You know her dad?"

"He's quite famous. He works closely with the secret technology branch of the government's scientific advances department—some his devices have literally saved the world."

Jon did not know that. Sue never mentioned anything so important. Perhaps she was so used to it that it didn't strike her as something special.

"But what do you think about Widow?"

"You can't simply refute the Coalition's ruling, no matter how long ago it—"

"But is it true!?" He didn't mean to be so short, but his mother's stalling was annoying.

She shook her head, "I can't say."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't."

Jon held his breath in irritation, wondering just how dangerous it was to question the Coalition's power.

"Help peel potatoes for dinner," she demanded before going into the kitchen.

He sighed and did as he was told. She turned on the radio and 'My Sharona' was playing. The radio stations played too much in his opinion and now the beat would be in his head the rest of the day.

He found him peeling potatoes to the beat.

_Dada Dada-da. da. Dada Dada-da. Da. Dada Dada-da. da. My Sharona!_

His mother was bobbing her head to the song as well as she chopped vegetables—it appeared they were to having a casserole for supper, but it would be delicious unlike the one had eaten for lunch.

Thankfully the song ended and was replaced by Blondie's 'Heart of Glass'

His mother actually sang the lyrics out loud, not caring if he heard her.

He cut all the potatoes into fourths and put them into a pot of water.

"Is that all you needed?"

"Yes, thanks son," she leaned over and kissed his forehead. He made a face and wiped at it, thinking he was too old for such endearing actions. If Medulla or any of the guys would have seen that, they wouldn't let him live it down.

He went to living room and turned on the television to catch the end of a 'Brady Bunch' rerun.

His father came home, they ate supper with minimal conversation, and then he went to bed—of course the shouts of malcontent from his parents were audible through the floor of his room. Would they ever find a peace?

The next day at school, all the rest of his classmates turned in their papers and Bitters didn't feel like lecturing so he told them to write a two page essay on what they were thankful for and why—it being so close to Thanksgiving.

Everyone groaned but took out pieces of notebook paper to get started.

'_Why I am Thankful' by Jonathan Boy 11/20/'79_

_I am asked for what I am thankful for this year, and I must say I should be thankful for many things. I am thankful for life; my life, my friends, and my family. If I wasn't thankful for life, I might as well be dead. I am thankful for heroes and their sidekicks, because they make the world such a better place._

Jon stopped writing, because all the truths he had come to discover about heroes made him reconsider his last sentence. But not _all_ heroes were corrupt or complete jerks—and it wasn't fair to the good ones if a few bad apples ruined their image. He shrugged and kept writing.

_I am thankful for the Electric Light Orchestra(ELO), because their music rocks and it makes my day feel better if I hear one of their songs on the radio—unlike the Knack, their My Sharona song plays way too often and gives me a headache, and so does some of the disco. I also should be thankful that my family can support themselves well enough I have a house over my head and food to eat. I am thankful for my grandma's pecan pie._

He glanced around the room to see if anyone had finished but most were writing away. His eyes stopped on Sue who was sitting at her desk but she wasn't writing—she was looking at a blank piece of paper. He wondered what she was thankful for, and if her paper gave any indication it would seem she was thankful for nothing.

_I am the most thankful this year to have made new friends, because I am shy, I didn't make any most of my years at normal schools. That brings me to my last item that I am thankful for, my powers. As miniscule as they are, I know they make a difference no matter who says differently. _

It wasn't exactly two pages in length, but it was dumb assignment—busywork so that Mr. Bitters didn't have to make an effort on the day before Thanksgiving break.

They went to lunch and Sue sat with Jon, Medulla, and the rest of them that day. Jon kept true to his promise to himself and had brought his own lunch. It was the leftover casserole, but worlds better than the kind served in their cafeteria.

"So, Cassie isn't in school today."

"Maybe she's still sick," Jon suggested to Lance, who had brought the subject up.

"Yeah maybe."

"I wonder what she's sick with?" Medulla wondered.

"She could have gotten the flu," Phil shrugged.

They weren't too concerned about Cassie, since she would probably get better but it was just so odd what happened to her during Phys-ed.

"That assignment was a drag," Medulla noted, moving to another topic.

Jon nodded with absolute agreement.

"What assignment?" Lance wondered.

"We had to write a two page essay on what we were thankful for and why," Jon explained.

Sue was quiet as per usual, but she looked up from her food and frowned, "It was hard."

"Nah, all you had to do was bullshit it," Medulla assured.

"I threw in some random stuff, just to fill a page," Jon added.

"I didn't write anything."

They stared at her. Jon swallowed, "Are you not thankful for anything?"

She shrugged, "I couldn't think of anything."

"That's why you bullshit it," Medulla reiterated.

Sue's frown was fixed but she didn't say anything else.

Bitters gave them sidekick logic problems to solve for the second half of the day, which was tedious and everyone's attention wandered elsewhere—anxious for the end of the day and to finally be on break. Jon tried to concentrate, but he, like his classmates just didn't have the patience to think the problems through. Bitters sat at his desk, grading the research papers and sipping coffee the whole while. In Phys-Ed Coach Split was in two and he had them run laps, do stretches, and then had them play flag football. Jon was tackled on his turn immediately by a bulky hero junior. He was glad to get back to the bleachers after his match was over. The only light of his unsatisfactory day was the fact he was going to Philadelphia for Thanksgiving with his family.

As Soon as Jon got home from school, His father was in the car and their suitcases were in the trunk.

Jon hopped in the backseat, but something was amiss. The passenger seat was empty.

"Where's mom?"

"She's decided to stay here for the holiday."

His heart started beating in a panic, "WHY? She always comes to Thanksgiving."

His father adjusted the rear-view mirror, and in its reflection he could see his Dad frowning, "Well, I guess she won't be this time. Now get up here in the front seat, son."

Jon still didn't understand what was going on, but trudged out of the backseat, walked around and got into the passenger seat. He buckled his seatbelt, still in a dark mood.

"So what is she going to do here while we're gone?"

"Probably be on call for the Faulty Vault, crimes increase on the holidays since so many people are out of town."

"But she never had to do that before!"

"Tell me about it," he grumbled then put on a false smile, "Philly, here we come!"

Jon didn't understand how his father could be so indifferent to this. Why was his mother staying home? Whose choice, whose idea caused this? He didn't feel complete going to such a family holiday without a part of it.

His dad backed out of the driveway, and they were off. His dad turned on the radio and it was, thankfully, the end of 'My Sharona.'

'Mr. Blue Sky' started playing next, and even though it was by ELO, it didn't make him feel better like he had written in his essay. He crossed his arms and leaned against the window, wishing that Sue could have come along—then at least he would have someone to talk to and she might have even become thankful for something. He sighed, and his warm breath hit the cold window and created a fog.

The truth was that he was not thankful for much more than he was thankful for at that moment.


	15. XIV

The drive was long, and Jon stared out the window for most of the time, looking at passing landscape and listening to the different songs that came on the radio. When they left a certain signal area, Jon would have to fiddle with the seek knob in order to find another radio station.

It started snowing around suppertime. Jon's dad pulled off the highway to eat at a diner. They were in Ohio the last Jon noticed.

"I could sure use some grub, what about you?"

Jon nodded, he was hungry and the last thing he had eaten was a candy bar that afternoon from a gas station in Indiana.

It was a boxcar diner with a generic man's name claiming ownership—in this case it was '_Joe_.'

They sat themselves in a booth by a window and a waitress approached them.

"Welcome to Joe's Diner, what can I getcha fellas to drink?" She pulled a pencil from behind her ear and readied a notepad

"Do you want a Dr. Pepper? I do." His dad said.

Jon shrugged indifferently.

The waitress left to get their sodas and Jon could only yawn and put his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?"

Jon glanced at his dad and let out a punitive sigh, looking his father in the eye.

"I couldn't force her to come, Jon. She said she needed to stay home this time around."

"Mom probably didn't want to end up fighting with you in front of grandma and grandpa," Jon snapped, tired of playing innocent to their late-night spats.

His father looked taken aback. The waitress gave them their Dr. Peppers and took their food orders. Jon hadn't even looked at the menu in front of him, just mumbled 'cheeseburger' because it was probably on there.

"So you—you hear those huh?" his dad had lost all his charisma and looked defeated.

"Almost every night."

The man closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose as if he were stuffy with sinus problems, "I'm sorry son."

"Why do you guys even fight in the first place?"

His father sighed and leaned forward, "It's complicated—things too great for a youth as you to comprehend but if I could I would take back all those fights you heard."

Jon scrutinized his old man, "Because I heard them or because you didn't want to fight in the first place?"

"Jon, I don't _want_ to fight with her. Sometimes though…" he said but caught himself and only smiled with a small reassuring, "I love Lizzie—I hate to argue with her. She speaks so convincingly that I have to wonder 'was it worth it to mention it anyway?'" The last part, his father mostly said to himself and Jon had to wonder what his dad mentioned that caused their spats to start.

After a few more minutes, their food was done. Their waitress brought out a platter. She was balancing his hamburger, his dad's chicken wings and a bottle of barbeque sauce on it. Jon's powers tingled as he saw the barbeque bottle wobble. She was bending down to place Jon's food in front of him but he leaned over and caught the bottle as it fell off her platter.

He handed it back.

"Thanks sonny, those are some fast reflexes," she smiled and nodded.

For the first time during the trip, Jon smiled and looked to his dad who was also grinning knowingly.

They stopped in Harvey, Ohio for the night at a motel. Driving to Pennsylvania was a sixteen hour drive from where they lived and they had left in the afternoon so they had to break up the travel.

Jon fell fast asleep. He would have just slept in the car but he couldn't fall asleep to so much motion—the turning, stopping, and constant going of the vehicle.

The next morning they resumed their journey to Philadelphia. It was only six more hours and they would be there, maybe his grandma would let him have a piece of pecan pie a day early. That was wishful thinking, Jon caught his excitement—she probably hadn't even made one yet.

"So tell me about Sue," his father requested quite unexpectedly. Jon turned his focus from staring out the window to his father.

"What about her?"

Jon's dad had met Sue once, the day he drove her home after they played pinball so many months ago, and it surprised him that his dad was even curious much less remembered her.

"Well, is she nice? Do you guys 'chill out' together anymore?"

"She's fine I guess. She's really quiet most of the time, but also really intelligent. Her powers are something else."

"Do you _like_ her?"

"No!"

Jon felt his cheeks flush at his dad's teasing. It wasn't that he _disliked_ Sue—she was sort of pretty in her own way but he only liked, no, _loved,_ _one_ girl.

His dad was grinning at his son's outburst, in a knowing sort of way, "That's right, you still like Josie Del Marco."

"Of course."

***

They arrived at his grandparent's house later that afternoon and it was snowing again.

"Jonathan!" his grandma gave him a tight hug but he didn't mind. His granddad gave him a slap on the back in greeting.

"You've grown like Jack's beanstalk!"

"William!" his grandma embraced her son tightly, but his dad didn't mind it either.

"Where's Elizabeth?"

A quiet settled over the joy that had been. His father took off his hat and dusted off the snow and answered, "She had to stay home to run the flower shop."

Jon wondered if his grandparents would buy the excuse. They didn't know his mother was part of an elite duo that worked for the city to vanquish crime and save citizens. His grandma shook her head sadly, "That's a shame, she'll miss my pie! I'll have to send some back with you men."

Jon was more than okay with that.

He spent the rest of the afternoon with his grandfather and father in the garage. His grandpa was working on making a new rocking chair for his grandma.

Jon helped sand the wood and his father used a saw to cut pieces. His granddad liked to make wooden novelties, and actually made good money off of them. All the shelves and tables in his grandparents' home were made by his grandpa.

"How's high school treating you Jonny?" His granddad asked.

Jon stopped sanding a leg and thought, "It's been fine—I haven't gotten any C's yet."

"Good job! You keep those grades up and you can get into Penn State, like your dad."

"He can go wherever he wants after he graduates, as long as its what he wants," Jon's dad looked up from sawing wood and stared his grandpa straight in the eye.

Jon knew there wasn't any more schooling for his desired occupation of 'sidekick' after high school. He could go to college but it would only be in pursuit of a cover. He hadn't thought what he would do for a cover job yet, it seemed too early. He looked down at the rocking chair leg and noted he did like carpentry, but one did not go to college to get a degree in that skill.

Lots of super powered people took on freelance journalism; some owned their own businesses—like his mother and her flower boutique, which was convenient. Maybe Jon could take his granddad's idea and make wooden novelties for a cover job and a living.

As he continued to sand the leg, he drifted off into his thoughts—his father and grandfather's banter fading into the background. He imagined what it would be like at his twentieth high school reunion which would be in—he counted in his head—in 2003! He shook his head kind of amazed it would be on the other side of the new millennium. Anyway, he could picture him and Josie happily married with them being the greatest team in the country, and the secret envy of all their former classmates.

He imagined Medulla having a job with the government—like Sue's dad—after doing a short stint as a sidekick for someone unbearable like Baron Battle. He could see Lance doing hero work on the west coast, probably because Lance looked like a surfer dude. He had a little trouble placing Sue's future though. She could be the most amazing-powered sidekick in the country or she could retire from the hero world altogether since she seemed so bent on loathing it. She probably wouldn't even go a high school reunion.

His grandma entered the garage then and told them it was suppertime. Did time go by so fast? Jon set down the rocking chair leg and sandpaper and went inside to wash his hands. They had his grandma's meatloaf for dinner, which was excellent. Jon slept on the living room sofa while his dad took the bed in the spare room. After his grandma kissed him goodnight, he flipped on a lamp on the end table by the sofa and started to read more of Mr. Bitters's book since he wasn't tired yet.

There were some pretty impressive superheroes, like the Telepathic, _Mindbender_—who in the 50's was a major heroic force in the Southern United States. He was ordered to turn people's thoughts away from segregation in the cities like Memphis, Atlanta, and Jackson. He would go undercover to state congressional hearings and use his powers. The Commissioners accused Mindbender of illegally changing their will but the Coalition defended the hero and threatened to withdraw their heroes from the southern cities if they refused to drop the charges. A major city without an assigned primary hero was doomed to succumb to uncontrollable riots and crime.

Jon thought about the situation, on one hand every man had the right to think for himself, but on the other hand it was wrong to separate people by race like they had. He wasn't quite sure where the moral right lay in that instance.

"Jon! Are you still awake?" he heard his granddad ask from his bedroom down the hallway. Jon quickly snapped off the light, and hid his book.

"Not anymore!" he replied and shut his eyes.

***

He woke up to his grandma shaking him with a smile, "Wakey, wakey, eggs and bay-kee."

"Really?" he mumbled and gave her a yawn. He caught his reflection in the living room window and saw his hair was sticking out all sorts of ways.

"No, only pancakes, orange juice, and cereal."

He sighed, knowing it wasn't true from lack of cooked-bacon-smell wafting from the kitchen. His grandma continued into the kitchen but a part of the rug was turned up. She stumbled and began to fall but he lunged from his spot on the sofa and caught her, for his power alerted him of the motion. She breathed in a few gasps of air and then thanked him, praising his fast reflexes.

After consuming his breakfast he politely asked his grandma if she would give him a hair cut since he it was long enough to brush into his eyes. She obliged and sat him down in the dining room chair with a towel over him to catch the hair bits.

"So you have any girlfriends back home?"

"Well I have girls that are friends."

"But surely you like a girl?"

"Yeah…"

"Tell me all about her!"

Jon was never comfortable with talking about his deep-kept secrets to others, even his own family, but for some sudden reason he felt like he had to get it out. He wanted to explain why he loved Josie, and why he could never stop loving her. He told his grandma the story about the swings in third grade, and how Josie stood up for him. He told her everything, except of course, that Josie could fly.

"Well I'll be, my grandson is in love!" his grandma gushed as she combed his hair, ridding it of any hair snippets.

Jon sighed, glad to get it off his chest. It was safe, telling her—because she lived far away and Josie would never be told.

"Hop, up. You're done. Now I got to get to baking pie and put that turkey in."

He unwrapped the towel and shook off his hair clips into the garbage can. Then eagerly went to see how he looked with shortened hair. It looked decent, less haphazard—even though that seemed to be the current style amongst adolescent boys.

"Jon, I'm running downtown for an hour or two, you want to tag along?" His dad appeared in the hallway outside of the bathroom and asked.

"Uh, sure."

They drove into the city, but Jon had to wonder why "Isn't everything closed on Thanksgiving?"

"I need to visit an old friend while I'm here. The department store is open, why don't you meet me back here in two hours?"

Jon nodded, wondering who his dad's 'old friend' was, and why it was so important to visit them on Thanksgiving.

His dad handed him a twenty-dollar bill and told him to buy anything he wanted. It seemed like a bribe.

Jon shrugged and started toward the department store. The stores were already playing Christmas music as he browsed through the different departments. He ended up buying a new wristwatch with the money. The one he had when school started had stopped working but he had never gotten around to asking Sue if she could fix it for him—since she seemed touchy about people using her for her powers.

He waited on the street as it started snowing again. He looked up at the tall buildings of the downtown that seemed to make up an urban canyon. A crash of sorts startled him and he turned his wide eyes on a man who had just broken out of a glass window. He had an arm full of money and jewelry. He spotted Jon standing and staring in a bewildered manner and then took off in the opposite direction. Jon ran to where the man had emerged from, and saw it was a jewelry shop that had been closed for the holidays.

"HEY!" he shouted and started running after the man, not even knowing what he could do if he caught up with him. He was quick, but not a fighter—he knew a few combat moves from Phys-ed. but enough to take down a dangerous person in the real world.

He ran past an alley, and then quickly backed his feet up and stared at a group of kids his age, who were unleashing wrath upon the thief. A girl wearing torn, out-of-date bell-bottoms was hitting the man repeatedly. She caught his jaw in an uppercut and Jon could have sworn he heard it crack. A bulky blonde kid held the robber as she beat on him. They were no younger than Jon, yet they were kicking the shit out of the adult.

"Stop," the third kid commanded. Jon hadn't seen him at first. He was a black kid that wore a cabby hat.

"Why?" the girl shrilled. She cracked her knuckles in the pause of her beat down.

He was chewing on a toothpick. He looked like he was on the slick---his back against one of the buildings that made up the alley and watching the whole event go down. He nodded toward Jon, the onlooker, for the reason.

Jon's power willed him to bolt—he was supposed to meet his dad soon anyway.

"Uh…" he managed to mumble with an unsure smile—to indicate he was friendly, "Hi?"

"What did you see?" The girl asked immediately and approached him with more threatening gestures of her knuckles.

He cowered, "Nothing! Well I saw you beating the crap out of that jewel thief…"

She jerked her thumb back, indicating the near-unconscious man, "How'd you know he's a jewel thief?"

"How do you?"

She only shoved him for an answer.

"Keep it cool, Kelly. This cat is only curious," the black kid threw his toothpick to the ground and moved out of the dark to stand by Jon. Jon flinched as the kid put his arm around Jon's shoulders in a suspiciously friendly move, "Kid, you ever heard that curiosity killed the cat?"

Jon nodded yes. He was growing anxious and just wanted to get out of there without getting hurt.

"Are you cool?"

"Yeah, I'm cool?" Jon said, but it was more of a question.

The kid grinned, "Okay then. See ya!"

He gave Jon a slight push back toward the street and Jon was more than glad to get out of there but the kid added from behind him, "and don't tell nobody what you saw. Just know that justice will be served."

_Justice will be served_, Jon repeated in his head—it sounded like hero talk—but those were just regular kids fighting crime. Fighting crime on Thanksgiving, no less!

He waited on the curb, out in the open in front of the department store until his dad pulled up in the car and he got inside. Snow had clung to his hair and jacket, and he was thankful for the warmth.

"Is that a new watch?" his dad asked as he glanced at his son.

"Yeah," Jon held it up to show it better, then looked at the time—almost one in the afternoon.

His mind turned back to the kids in the alley—and it amazed him more and more the more he thought of it—they _were_ just regular kids. Maybe they had the right idea; maybe a person could _choose_ whether or not they were to be a hero.

* * *

A/N: Apologies for the whole not-updating-in-two-months' thing.


	16. XV

As soon as they pulled up in the driveway, back at the old homestead, Jon's mother rushed out to give him a hug.

"I missed you guys!"

"If you'd have come with us you wouldn't have had to," Jon's father replied coolly as he stepped out of the car. He had become grumpy driving through interstate traffic. Apparently everyone was going home on Route 80 west that weekend.

She brushed his comment off without so much as a glare. Instead she gave her husband a light kiss on the chin and Jon saw that as miles of improvement from when they had left.

"Here's some of grandma's pie," Jon held out a Tupperware. He had been so tempted to just rip the lid off and stuff his face with it the whole trip back. Thanksgiving with his grandparents had been nice, and they managed to finish his grandma's rocking chair over the time they were there as well.

He let the pie piece go, wondering if he could convince Phil to materialize a pecan pie but sadly realized that it wouldn't be the same because only his grandma could make it the way he loved.

He was glad to be home, and was sick of riding in the car. He actually couldn't wait to go back to school and hang out with his friends.

They began a new unit on technical support that introduced Jon and his classmates to the types of gadgets currently available to supers. Things like the laser-pen, and the retractable bolas net, all which were invented by a wing of government that specialized in hero-sidekick devices. Even if they were sidekicks they were much more privileged than regular kids. Those people didn't even know there was a secret branch of government, and probably never would. The less normal people knew about the going-on of the super heroes, the better off they were. The citizens had enough to worry about what with the Russians and the Cold War, those poor American Hostages in Iran and the related gas crisis that had followed. Jon and his dad had to wait in a gas line for hours before they could fill up. The world might have been going crazy and there was no point in time which need more hero support than now.

He sat with his usual friends during Lunch. Medulla was especially psyched out because he saw a preview for the _Emperor Strikes Back, _the sequel to _Star Wars_ over the break and could talk of nothing else.

"I'll bet Chewbacca eats someone, hopefully Vader" Medulla predicted.

"It's not _Alien_," Jon pointed out. He had seen that movie last spring. The Alien that burst forth from that man's chest still made his skin crawl. He had jumped nearly out of his seat when he first saw that scene.

"You know what _is_ Alien?" Dave couldn't help himself.

No one said anything, just looked at him to get it over with.

"The ladies."

Some of them groaned. Some were just so used to Dave's terrible jokes they ignored them.

"Speaking of Ladies, has anyone seen Cassandra Lightfoot since she bolted from Save the Citizen?" Dave asked seriously. Dave kind of had a thing for Cassie though he never admitted it. Besides she was taken, and dating a great guy.

Jon realized he hadn't seen her, and no one else had either. Shaun Wilson, student body president was in attendance, but here it was nearly a week after Thanksgiving, two weeks away from Christmas vacation and Cassie hadn't returned to school. Shaun wasn't his usual jolly self though. He was continually pale and anxious, at least when Jon saw him in the hallway. That Friday, during Save the Citizen, Shaun had to pick a different teammate. He picked one of his friends, Paul Hamilton who had a telekinetic ability.

Though Paul and Shaun hadn't perfected their team as Shaun had with Cassie, they ended up losing by a hair to Portman and one of the cutters. Shaun's winning streak had come to an end. He took the loss lightly and headed for the showers, as if he had more important things on his mind.

Jon returned Mr. Bitters's book of heroes and villains, and thanked him for letting him borrow it.

"Not a problem Boy," Bitters said before taking a sip of coffee before addressing the class. "I know we have less than two weeks until Christmas vacation but can you all _please_ find enough willpower to pay attention?"

Jon looked around at his classmates whom were all slumped over bored-like with their heads laid on their desks or their heads propped up in their hands.

Medulla was paying attention, but his forehead was so big that it was pulling his head downward.

Mr. Bitters pulled out a gadget. A gear-shaped device with an adjusting knob in the middle. "This is a truth-puller."

Jon noticed out of the corner of his eye that Sue had straightened up, suddenly _very_ attentive.

"Well, I guess the official term is—"

"Vervis Compuli," Sue said as Bitters also spoke it.

Everyone looked at her rather oddly, for she never was one to volunteer to speak; she was usually quiet and only talked when called on.

After a few seconds of surprise Bitters smiled, "And I thought this thing was supposed to be top secret."

"If it's top secret then why do you have it?" Jimmy Bozaboil snapped smartly.

"Just because we're an educational institution doesn't mean we get all the rejects. This isn't public school. It's our job to inform you about this new, approved technology. Now what was I saying? Oh yes this device is good use for when your hero has successfully apprehended a villain. Sometimes you need information and those suckers won't talk so that's why we have this, the Vervis Compuli, or a better term to use is the 'Truth Enforcer.'"

"How does it work? How can it pull the truth—?" Jimmy wondered obnoxiously.

Bitters switched it on and fiddled with the knob and pointed it at Jimmy.

"Sometimes if I drink too much water before I sleep I'll wet the bed."

The class was silent before cracking up with loud laughter. Jimmy's cheeks turned red and he shouted, "I do not!"

Though no one believed him. Bitters chuckled, "That's when it's on no setting—it will cause random truths to be forced. If you set it to question specific—" Bitters stopped talking to switch the knob again. He nodded and pointed at Medulla, "Which girl in the school do you dig the most?"

"Susanna Tenny," Medulla replied casually but as soon as he realized he had said it, was seen in a rare moment of embarrassment. Jon knew Medulla to always be in control of his emotions, to a point he was slightly robotic. His eyes narrowed at Bitters for asking such a thing. If Sue heard she didn't care—her attention was on where that device was pointing.

In turn, he aimed it toward Sue and she closed her eyes as if it was going to attack her.

"Susanna, which _boy_ do you dig the most?"

It wasn't particularly fun for those being questioned but for the observers it was turning out to reveal some juicy information. She didn't answer though. When she opened her eyes they were filled with relief. She briefly looked to Jon before answering, "I plead the 5th."

Their teacher's entertained expression dropped at seeing that the device had stopped working. Jon knew she had broken it or something to avoid answering. What was amazing was that she had done it so fast because as he remembered she had to understand the technology to control it and Bitters had not answered Jimmy's question of how the device worked. They took a break, and Jon could hear classmates teasing Jimmy about his bed-wetting issues while he vehemently denied it all the while.

"So you like Sue huh?" He turned to ask Medulla who sat across from him. He didn't think Medulla liked girls. He seemed more in taken with shrink rays and Chewbacca than humans—and had never contributed to their routine 'girl conversations' in front of the school when they had down time.

"That was a very unprofessional demonstration of that device," Medulla answered nodding at Bitters who was trying to get the Vervis Compuli working again.

Or maybe Medulla's crush on Sue was a secret just as Jon's love for Josie was. He could definitely sympathize and on another level was thankful Bitters hadn't asked him who he was in love with at the school.

Jon agreed that it wasn't fair but what else could the device be demonstrated on? As long as it wasn't destructive they could learn from the demonstrations on potential devices they would use. Also, Bitters seemed to hate his job and this was one of those moments that seemed to lighten the day for him.

Jon got up and went to take a bathroom break since there was time left before they all had to be seated again. When he was walking back he noticed Sue was far down the other hall, she was walking into the science lab. He wondered what she was up to so he knocked on the glass to get her attention. The lab was empty at the moment except for her. She was looking over a notepad.

She looked up with a frown, "What?"

"We have to get back to class."

She shook her head, "I'm not going back right now."

"You're cutting?" Jon was alarmed; he never took her for a cutter.

"I don't want him pulling out any other gadgets to experiment on students with."

Jon thought about it, "But you could just deactivate them like you did with the last one."

She smirked, "You knew about that?"

He relaxed a little at her smile, "It was kind of obvious. Bitters must have forgotten what your power are. In fact I don't think he remembers what any of us can do."

"He should just retire already. He seems so miserable as a super high-school teacher. One teaching Sidekicks no less."

"So if you're not coming back, then what will you do?"

"I was going to work on something the science club is trying to do."

He wanted to ask her what but knew she would explain it in a way he couldn't understand he was smart but not sciencey-smart.

"Hey, so how do you know so much about the Vervis Compuli? How does it work?"

She set down her fountain pen she was writing with and looked up seriously, "It's something I invented for my dad to present to the government. It works by sending a signal that targets the dopamine in the frontal lobe of a human brain. It triggers a false sense of security so that the person will willingly tell their secrets or truths."

Jon stared at her amazed, "_You_ invented it?"

"Well, the technical part and concept, he got a ray specialist to wire the signal in. He doesn't like me saying I invented it because it takes away his credit. In fact, I think he patented it under his name only."

He could hear a very embittered tone in her words. Her expression grew darker.

"Then he uses it on me when he thinks I'm lying. The one at home he did something extra to, something I can't figure out so it forces me to tell the truth." She let her pen drop onto the paper pad. "I don't usually lie, I have no reason to lie but he gets stern and paranoid sometimes…I hate him."

He was shocked at what she had said but it was no surprise considering any conversation she had previously held with her father as the topic. She picked up the pen and gripped it hard, thinking just as hard about something else. She suddenly whirled around and pointed the pen at Jon. He was already a few feet back as his reactions told him to bolt at her jerky, angry move.

"You know what is the most infuriating? When we're out in public at government galas or conventions. Not only does he not give me credit for what I help him with, he also calls me '_Daddy's little girl'_, I mean its such a lie not to mention embarrassing. Sure I help him with his work sometimes but I'd hardly call myself _that_."

Jon could feel the frustration seethe off of her, and he knew he couldn't console her about such issues, "I've got to go back. I'll tell them you felt sick or something."

Sue's glare lifted slightly, "Thanks a lot Jon."

He nodded, knowing that the short conversation with her had opened up doors and windows into the life of his friend he had always wanted to understand. Now he knew, at least a reason to why she was often moody and unpleasant. Perhaps Jon could find a way to keep her occupied from her home life.

He was just a few minutes late coming back to class and he sat down, trying not to draw too much attention from Bitters who was now going on about a new device—something with needles that thankfully he was not demonstrating on students.

"Psst—hey Medulla."

"What?"

"You should ask Sue out sometime."

Medulla's stone face broke into intrigue, "Really? You think so?"

"Yeah, like take her out to a movie or bowling,"

"Does she like me?"

"Well, she's your friend so there has to be something she likes about you," Jon reasoned.

"I don't know, what if she says '_no_?'"

"Gentleman, are you quite done whispering about date plans?"

They cringed at Bitters's voice asking from behind them. They sat up straight and were nervous at the proximity of the needle device.

"As I was saying…" Bitters continued down the row aisle.

Their bodies eased up a bit as he passed, but Jon nodded encouragingly at his friend.

* * *

The next week they sat together at lunch as usual, and it was one of the days Sue sat with them despite being the only girl at the table. Sometimes she sat with the Cutlass twins but Jon learned she had taken lunch to the science lab most often than not. She really was focused on her extra curricular projects.

"So Cassie must be really sick," Phil noted as it was nearly Christmas vacation and the senior had yet to be spotted back in school.

Sue snorted derisively, "Yeah, if you count pregnancy as an illness."

All the boys stared at her, wide-eyed, "_WHAT_?"

Sue, in turn gave them just as wide of a stare, "Oh come on, you haven't heard by now?"

"Woah, woah, are you telling us that Cassie is _knocked up_?"

Sue nodded, "Yup, that about sums it up. Mr. student body president should have used protection. She dropped out, that's why you haven't seen her."

Sue seemed kind of maliciously pleased at the dilemma, probably because it involved heroes. Jon frowned, it wasn't fair—Shaun and Cassie were the nice heroes, the friendly, and brave ones who would have gotten far and assigned important cities to protect.

"So Cassie's going to have a baby?"

"That's usually the result of pregnancy, idiot," Sue snapped at Dave who seemed quite disheartened, too much so to even make a bad joke.

"Woah that baby is gonna be awesome. Two super hero parents? He's going to be indestructible and be able to size-shift!" Lance put the two-and-two together.

"In theory," Medulla mused.

Jon was still quite shocked at the news, mostly because he never expected it to happen to such good students. He turned and scanned the cafeteria for Shaun Wilson, student body president, and found him sitting amongst his friends at their lunch table and Jon could finally see why the hero had been melancholy for the past few weeks.

His friends were laughing and making jokes but Shaun just sat there, dismal looking and eating the casserole that was served for lunch. He would have originally pegged Shaun's discontent on the casserole but now knew the reason. Jon was glad he brought his own lunch. He hated the school's casserole.

His attention drifted back into what his own friends were saying, "…Escort you this evening to an endeavor of entertainment."

Medulla had said it, and the rest of them were looking at Sue expectantly. She had her fork half way to her mouth and her eyes were wide. Jon figured Medulla was asking her out, not that it was the appropriate time when they were all there and news about Cassie was fresh on their minds.

She gave a look to Jon, which he didn't know why—but he smiled nonetheless to encourage her to say yes. She put her fork in her mouth and ate the casserole, through it, they all could hear a mumbled, "Sure."

For the first time ever, they noticed that Medulla was smiling so hard the vein in his head was throbbing. Sue twisted her lip upward in a grossed-out manner and left the table, "As friends."

Apparently their date was an 'as-friends' deal which put a damper on Medulla's smile. NO guy preferred to go on a date with a girl 'as-friends' no matter what species.

"I'm telling you man, you shouldn't have asked her right after we were talking about babies," Lance slapped Medulla on the shoulder and stated the obvious.

* * *

A/N: Fun Facts:

_Ver _in Latin means 'truth_', vis _means 'strength', and _compuli_ means 'compel'


End file.
